Nature Versus Nurture
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Tag to Episode 2:23 MacGyver & MacGyver. Mac has left Phoenix, but the twin reaches of biology and loyalty are proving hard to escape. He'll be forced to face his father and all the lies and misunderstandings between them if he is to save his partner. He might have willingly walked away from Phoenix and his dad, but that didn't mean he'd ever turn his back on his brother.
1. Chapter 1

Nature versus Nurture

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: This is a tag to the Season finale, MacGyver + MacGyver. It's the Peru incident that my story Warriors eluded to. You don't have to have read that one, because it actually falls after this story. It's also kind of a slice of what I would love to see them do on the show, but we all know that's not going to happen. I could not find the last name for Carlos from Wind + Water, so I took liberty. If anyone knows if he had a specific one used, please let me know and I will change it!

RcJ

 _"Just as astronomers have mapped the night sky, geneticists have mapped the human genome, the strands of DNA telling your story through every cell in your body. Those who have come before you live inside you, shaping who you are."-Julie Clark (The Ones We Choose)_

Biology was on Angus MacGyver's mind, specifically DNA. That wasn't really a unique occurrence considering the twenty-five year old typically had something scientific ruminating on the back burner in his thought processes. Mental multitasker was his middle name.

Mac's partner, Jack Dalton often related the on-going ponderings of random and sometimes bizarre topics to the bread starters his grandmother Beth always had stored somewhere in her generous, sunny kitchen so she could whip up a little loaf of heaven anytime she had the inclination. The former Delta was fond of pointing out that Mac was just as ready to pop a new idea in the proverbial oven in case a situation called for his particular brilliance. Currently, however, Mac should have only have been considering the dimensions of the board he was needing for the kitchen cabinets under construction and not what went into the building blocks of a human being.

"So, Mac, has whatever you were hoping to find magically appeared on the screen in the past five minutes since you last checked?" Carlos Molina's question interrupted Mac's musings. Carlos shot his co-worker an amused half grin, pointing to the cell phone that Mac had mindlessly picked up once again to only add to the chorus of concerns he was contemplating when he should have been staying focused. "Since when did you become a Twitter addict, hermano?"

"What?" Mac hoped he quickly masked his 'hand in the cookie jar' look with one which conveyed nonchalance and unaffectedness, his fingers tightening slightly around the device in question. "I don't know what you mean, man." He aimed a frown at Carlos, who had stopped sawing the board they'd placed across the saw horse between them to give him an amused knowing smirk. "I was just checking the time."

"Right." Carlos scoffed. "Because in the years since we shared living quarters in the Army, Angus MacGyver has become a clock watcher? I'd believe you're an avid Instagram user before I'd buy that story." He shook his head as if the lie was ridiculous and poorly planned, which it was because they both new the only occasions Mac was truly interested in time was when it involved the counting down of an explosive device and lives were at stake.

"Did my lovely wife, Kamila, tell you lunch was going to be earlier than I had thought because by my estimation," Carlos pointedly looked up to the clear blue sky where the sun wasn't even fully overhead yet, "we still have a few hours to go before she and Adriana show up with our food."

Mac sighed, putting the phone away and pulling off his work gloves. He stuffed them in his back pocket, running a hand over his hair and blew out a long breath of air. He purposively shoved thoughts of genome mapping from his mind before meeting Carlos's eyes. "If you must know I was checking to see if Jack had messaged me."

"That's funny." Carlos turned to open the cooler behind him. He grabbed two bottles of water, tossing one to Mac before taking a seat on the ice chest. "I vividly remember you wanting some down time while you were here helping us finish out the house. In fact, I think you were pretty clear when you said you had asked Bozer and specifically Jack _not_ to be in touch."

"Like that would stop him." Mac snorted, twisting the cap off the bottle. Carlos might like to think he knew Mac, and considering they'd gone through boot camp together when they were both wide-eyed, scared shitless teenagers, he did to some degree, but he had no clue about Jack Dalton. It was true Mac had asked for some space after Oversight's revelation and to Jack's credit, he'd refrained from following Mac to Puerto Rico-so far- but that didn't mean he could or would give up his watch completely. Mac took a long drink and shook his head at his old friend.

"He's been sending gifs every day, which he doesn't consider communication. Also, streams of emojis I'm guessing he thinks I will get a kick out of decoding." A fond smile twitched around Mac's mouth. "I hate to break it to the big guy, but I can decipher encryption from some of the world's master minds, and still not make heads or tails of Dalton's logic when it comes to smiley faces." Mac gave a grinning Carlos a pointed look, attempting an aggrieved face. "I also know he's been keeping in touch with _you_ , so don't even pretend he hasn't called."

Carlos laughed, neither denying nor admitting to the accusation of being complicit in Mac's partner's attempts to watch over him all the way from California. "I bet Adriana could help you out with that decoding as my eight year old daughter is probably a good match for Jack Dalton at his wittiest, most Delta's in general actually."

Mac took another drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That sounds a little like sour grapes, pal."

"Hey now, I have great respect for Delta Force. As a Ranger I set perimeter for the bastards more time than I can remember. I'm just saying they're all a little crazier than your average Special Forces soldier." Carlos shrugged, brushing sawdust from his jeans.

"Funny, I thought they were just a little bit better than your typical Army Ranger. Didn't you try out for Delta?" Mac placed the half empty bottle of water back on the ground, running his hand damp from condensation through his hair in hopes of proffering some cooling from the sun. He couldn't help getting a poke in on Jack's behalf. In actuality about 70 percent of Delta started out in the ranks of the Rangers but comparing them was like putting apples and lemons in the same pie. Rangers were the elite Light Airborne Infantry and Carlos had been top in his class, where Delta was the go to counter terrorism unit.

"Knowing you're in a bad way I'm going to let that little dig slide right off my back." Carlos gave Mac another smile, one that held just a bit too much sympathy. Mac felt his gut turn, his eyes not meeting Carlos's.

He hadn't exactly explained everything to the other man, keeping to himself that his absentee father had returned, in fact had been a part of Mac's life all along without his son being any the wiser. But he supposed he was wrecked enough that Carlos assumed the worst, realizing that whatever made Mac rabbit from his home must have been particularly painful. Perhaps like simply recognized like. Mac's world had metaphorically been imploded. His friend's had been devastated by a real life Cat 5 hurricane. Both their familiar landscapes were unrecognizable and in desperate need of repair.

Carlos tilted his head thoughtfully, gaze still lingering on Mac. "There is also the fact you saved my life not so long ago, and here you are now, helping me and my family out of the goodness of your heart with nothing to show for it other than my mother in laws cooking."

"I want to help, Carlos. It's not like I'm here just to hideout." Mac supposed Carlos was being quite charitable considering they both obviously understood there had been an ulterior motive in his decision to return to Puerto Rico two weeks ago and that it wasn't just another gesture of friendship like the trip he, Bozer, Riley and Jack had made earlier in the year. It seemed he was embarrassingly transparent, especially for someone who went undercover for a living. Mac tried to take comfort in the fact Carlos did know him better than most. Friends and trusted allies were few and far between, especially with the life he lived. Of course, as much as it sometimes irritated Mac, Jack knew him best. Well enough to let Mac bask in the illusion of being completely on his own, but understanding the younger man well enough to know that total abandonment was the last thing he needed especially now.

He sighed as thoughts of his connection to Jack stirred more ideas of genetic combinations and the influence his father wielded over his life and thus restarting Mac's inevitable questioning of all his decisions, even his most recent of quitting a job he loved and jetting off to Puerto Rico. Mac was resourceful, but he wasn't reckless or impetuous. It made his head spin and he could feel a dull pounding starting behind his eyes. Mac was overwhelmed by an inexplainable need to hear from Jack, like the man was a touchstone that could somehow ground him. He gestured to where Carlos's phone resided by the cooler, hopeful that he was right about his partner reaching out.

"So you can be straight with me about Dalton being in contact with you. It's not like I didn't expect him to be keeping tabs on me." Mac rubbed two fingers over his forehead.

"Keeping tabs would be friendly conversations asking if you were getting proper rest and nutrition, if your head was on straight." Carlos snorted, making a wide gesture with his arms. "Jack has been blowing up my phone daily," he admitted. "I finally had to explain to Kamila because with all the texts and late night calls she was getting suspicious I had something on the side. Of course my girl was sympathetic to your partner's plight. Her mama bear side drew a distinct similarity in how we reacted the first time a seven year old Adriana went to Girl Scout camp by herself." Another even wider grin appeared on Carlos's face. "She felt so sorry for him, she suggested sending Jack snapshots of you as proof of life like she bribed our daughter's counselor in to doing."

"That sounds about right." Mac couldn't deny the feeling of warmth that spread through him. He supposed it should have been a wave of irritation considering he was a grown ass man and didn't need his partner treating him like an errant child on his first sleepover, but after all that had transpired he couldn't work up any real ire. In fact, he missed his friend, his old life too much to feel anything other than a surprising pang of homesickness. With everything coming down around him it felt good to have at least one constant that would never waver or fail. Mac might have had little control over his genetic make-up, at the mercy of whatever father biology bestowed him, but he had created a family of his choosing and Jack Dalton was a solid, steadfast part of it.

"The man actually listed the possible catastrophes that might befall you here on the island and what each offense may warrant in retribution both in English and Spanish. He has a pretty good grasp of my native tongue, at least when it comes to threats," Carlos continued on, rubbing a finger over his eyebrow. "You don't want to know what your demise at the hands of a native poisonous reptile might cost me. Let's just say Adriana would never get the little sister she keeps asking for every birthday and Christmas."

"I'm sorry." Mac could only imagine his partner's imaginative paybacks for any wrong or what he perceived as slacking of duty on Carlos's part. Jack saw Mac's welfare as a priority, as if he were some national treasure and believed others should also acknowledge and act accordingly. He shrugged a little sheepishly. "Jack can be over the top when it comes to my safety. It's like he takes anything that happens to me personally. It's been that way since Afghanistan, when our CO made him my overwatch."

"Hey, I've seen some pretty protective, intense guys on overwatch in my time, Mac. Especially Delta. No one I'd rather have watching my six or waiting in the wings, that's for damn sure. With them it was always more than a critical tactical maneuver, an order to provide cover fire. But with Jack, it's more than a mission, brother. He's scary serious and in the name of brotherhood and being a papa bear myself, I respect that. Family comes first."

Mac bit back on pointing out that Jack wasn't his father, in fact, nothing biological connected them or demanded that Jack worry about Mac's welfare. Instead he forced a half grin, knowing Carlos didn't have the full picture or any understanding that his words were rubbing salt in a festered wound, picking at old insecurities and bringing the complexities back to the forefront of Mac's mind. "You're seriously afraid of Jack?"

"Let's just say I have been providing detailed reports of your well-being upon request. I even added a few pictures when you weren't aware just to make Kamila happy." Carlos finished off his water bottle, tossing the empty in the bucket they were using for trash. He stood, slapping Mac on the shoulder. "Ranger or not, I've never been so cocky to provoke an Alpha wolf, which is why I've insisted you wear a helmet on the work site, use proper protocol with the power tools instead of ramping them up with one of your strokes of genius, and that you stay off Adriana's bike thank you very much."

Mac laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was curious as to why you'd suddenly started worrying about OSHA's standards on the job. I admit it's stifled my creativity and slowed us down on sanding the floors. With all this new enforced caution, did you happen to mention our little cliff diving with your buddies last night to Jack? Or how about those sketchy burritos you bought me at that roadside stand this morning?"

"Actually, since you mention it, I haven't heard from overwatch today so there was no need to tell him about our nice moonlit swim in calm waters or the extremely nutritionally balanced meal I provided you." Carlos bobbed his brows, making a point to grab his phone, scrolling through the screen. He turned to Mac, one eyebrow lifted. "In fact, he didn't check in with me last night either. Maybe he's starting to trust me."

"That doesn't sound right." Mac's smile faltered with disappointment, his stomach turning with more than the remnants of his questionable breakfast. At Carlos's frown he offered a shrug, uncrossing his arms. "No offense, dude, but Jack doesn't typically trust anyone to do his job, not even a fellow soldier. It's not like him to go silent when I'm out of sight, let alone across the country."

"But he trusts _you_ , Mac," Carlos insisted, still frowning. "I mean it's obvious he worries, but he probably understands better than anyone what you're capable of doing. He knows you can handle yourself in any situation, even if it makes him feel better to think he's got some kind of control by being in close proximity. It could be he decided to finally back off and give you what you wanted."

A momentary flash of panic sliced through Mac. After the revelation about his dear old dad, he'd effectively shut down, reverting to his typical MO when hurt. Meaning he'd pretty much pushed everyone that mattered away-including Jack- giving them and himself safe distance from the blast zone. Mac's mind was reeling, his feelings still a Tsunami of conflicting emotions. He needed time and space. He'd done something similar when James MacGyver first took off. Only then the singular thing Mac had to quit was the Boy Scouts, and Bozer was the friend who got shoved to the side.

Booking his flight to Puerto Rico had been preemptive, something Mac had done on the way back from Mexico, when he'd known there was no way he could work for his father after the conversation they'd had in the burning lab, the man's words of truth more dangerous than Mac could have imagined. They'd been similar to a full frontal assault by armed militia, shredding Mac's defenses as sure as armor piercing bullets would have ripped him to pieces. Aside from the exfil plane ride home, Mac hadn't even given Jack a chance to talk to him, figuring the itinerary he'd emailed his best friend during his subsequent flight to Puerto Rico and the fact his plane ticket was a one way, the only hint Jack needed that Mac expected to be left alone, to handle things on his own.

Mac understood it was the equivalent of limping off into the woods to lick his wounds. He couldn't quite help himself. Leaving, keeping people at a distance, that was his true nature. One he was now certain was woven into his complex DNA design. He he had biology to blame for it. Could he blame his father for abandoning him in the name of keeping him safe, if he too had a tendency to shelter in place when he felt threatened? Mac might have been a hypocrite, but unlike James MacGyver, Mac hadn't left without word or lied. He also hadn't extended an invite for his partner or anyone else to join him.

Mac felt his gut give another nauseating twist. For once, he might have been getting exactly what he asked for.

"Or it could be he's busy with work." The look on Mac's face must have hinted at his sudden fear because Carlos quickly began back pedaling, holding up a hand in calming manner, like he was trying to appease a startled animal. "I mean, whatever it is you guys do at Phoenix seems like important stuff. To hear Dalton tell it, the world's always in need of saving. Right?"

"It's possible," Mac admitted hesitantly, though it felt hollow, all sorts of wrong, like a tried and true experiment taking a unprecedented turn, producing an outcome that shouldn't have been possible. He wasn't exactly in the loop considering his recent resignation, wasn't sure what happened when you retired from the spy business. A part of him almost expected Oversight to send a reconnaissance to reclaim his intellectual property. He couldn't help but to think back the 'MacGyver proof' room that Patricia Thornton had attempted to keep him corralled in during their first brush with Murdoc. Shaking himself free of the implications, he glanced to Carlos once more, his heart in his throat.. "But if Jack has been contacting you everyday…"

"Try multiple times a day," Carlos folded his arms over his chest, giving Mac a hard look. "If you're worried, hermano, you could just _call_ him. Check in. Let him know his baby brother is alive and well. You both will feel better."

Mac considered the suggestion, glancing to his phone. Jack would be all too glad to hear from him, probably thinking Mac was ready to open up and pick apart what his father's reappearance meant, pick up where they had left off, life going on as usual. Only Mac was realizing there was no quick fix to what his father had done. He wasn't sure he could just begin again. Much like Puerto Rico, the clean-up was going to be extensive, restoration a long arduous process.

As much as Mac wanted to talk to Jack, just to hear his familiar voice, he wasn't ready for a dialogue about his dad. Mac was the one who'd wanted some head space, some time to decide what his next step was going to be and a little bit of homesickness wasn't going to thwart him, making his leaving all for nothing. He sighed heavily, trying to mentally ease the knot in his gut, assured he was being ridiculous.

"We really should get back to work." Mac gestured to the project in front of them. Carlos's place wasn't going to be finished before the next hurricane season kicked in if he kept getting distracted by his emotions. The thoughts of seeing Carlos and his family in a place with a permanent groundwork gave Mac a little hope for repairing his own cracked foundation. If nothing else it was more than enough incentive to get back to work. He told himself Jack was just fine, busy like Carlos suggested, and didn't let himself consider differently until hours later, the sun already making its decent as he and his friend arrived back at the compound that evening where they soon realized Kamila and Adriana weren't the only ones eagerly awaiting their arrival.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mac couldn't quite believe his eyes as he crossed the threshold of his friend's makeshift home and found no other than James MacGyver holding court at the dinner table. His father stood slowly, a familiar scowl etching his face. He wasn't alone either. Bozer and Matty were with him.

"Mac…" Bozer started, quickly getting to his feet, worry written all over his face. Mac wasn't sure if the glare he shot his roommate or the fact Matty cleared her throat had the other man closing his mouth and sheepishly reclaiming his seat beside Adriana at the table.

"I'm sorry, Mac." Kamila made her way to Carlos's side, obviously flustered by Mac's reaction. "They arrived only a little while ago. A helicopter brought them."

"It's okay." Mac fought to calm his racing heart, the shock at seeing his father overridden by his desire to make sure Carlos's family didn't assume they had done something wrong. He smiled at the dark-haired woman, who'd been nothing but kind and gracious since his unexpected arrival. "I just wasn't expecting company, especially from business associates."

"He said he was Mac's father," Kamila said, confused, looking to Carlos. "Mr. MacGyver said it was important he talk with him about a family matter." She looked uncertain now, as if her trust and hospitality might have been unwarranted. Bozer was familiar to her, of course, but Mac had no doubt Oversight could play the role of a concerned, doting parent quite well when it suited his purposes.

"It's alright," Carlos assured, squeezing his wife's hand. He glanced to where his mother-in-law and young daughter still sat near Bozer, before turning his gaze to Mac who gave him a slight nod. "Perhaps we could step outside for moment and give them some time to catch up. I could use a hand in unloading the truck."

"Carlos…" Mac started, hating that he'd literally brought his trouble to the man's door.

Carlos halted him with a raised hand and a quick grin. "It's fine, hermano. I've been expecting Jack and his TAC team to drop by any day now. This is far less invasive than a hot extraction."

Mention of Jack had Mac momentarily forgetting his father's and former boss's intrusion on his private life. He didn't even object when Kamila, her mother and Adriana moved quickly to join Carlos who ushered them out of their own home. He heard the eight year old quietly ask if Mac was in trouble with his daddy for running away from home.

"You've been out of touch." James spoke before Mac could gather his thoughts. Oversight took a step away from the table, moving to stand in front of the younger man. "We were worried."

"You could have called." Mac unconsciously took a step back, tightly folding his arms over his chest. He narrowed his gaze as his father frowned at the less than enthusiastic greeting, hyper aware Matty and Bozer were watching them, much like the team had been when Mac quit Phoenix a few weeks before.

"That might have been an option if any of us had known where you were or had your number, as it was we had to rely on our resources." James said calmly, matter of factly.

Mac had only brought his burner phone. One of the ones he and Jack kept in case they needed to go dark. After their experiences with Nikki and Patrica Thornton, they didn't plan on being caught unaware again and even though Mac wasn't technically trying to hide from Oversight, he also hadn't welcomed easy access.

"How did you find me?" Mac hadn't revealed his specific travel destination to anyone but Jack. It wasn't that he didn't trust Bozer, but he didn't want to put his roommate in a position to have to answer hard questions or worse lie to those he loved. Mac sent a quick side-glance to his roommate, before shifting his concentration back to his father.

"Riley cracked Jack's old military email accounts. I figured you two might have kept those for a reason," Matty spoke for the first time, her face not revealing anything other than a flash of disappointment in what she considered Mac's obvious lack of sharing. Mac refrained from pointing out that she was the last person to harp on them having secrets. "We found your travel itinerary."

"Where is Jack?" Mac dismissed the violation of trust, asking the question that had been pounding away at his heart since he'd locked gazes with James MacGyver.

"We don't know," James answered, a spark of something that might have been regret flashing through his dark eyes. He crossed his arms, mirroring his son's stance. "That's why we're here."

Now Mac focused completely on Bozer. "What's he talking about?"

"Jack's gone missing." Bozer moved from behind the table now to come alongside Mac, ignoring the twin looks of reprimand from Oversight and Director of Phoenix. "Riley and I went to his place last night after he missed dinner with us at our place. We hadn't seen him for a while and I had promised him steak if he came over. Riley and I even agreed to a Bruce Willis marathon. When he didn't show, we tried calling." Bozer clasped his hands to keep them from gesticulating wildly. "Riley traced his phone to the apartment, but when we got there. We found the door open, inside was ransacked, and no signs of Jack."

"Why hadn't you seen him at work?" Mac wasn't sure why that question, of the many darting through his mind, but it seemed to stand out, the pulled thread that automatically caught his eye.

"Because Jack Dalton no longer works for Phoenix," James answered gravely causing Mac's pulse to quicken, the air seeming to thicken as it was suddenly difficult to draw a breath.

"You fired him?" Mac looked from his father to Matty, a disbelieving frown on his face. "How could you let him do that?"

"Jack quit. Not long after you." Matty lifted her hands in exasperation, dropping them to her sides as if Mac was being a complete idiot. "Did you expect him to stay when you left? He did exactly what he threatened me with doing anytime I suggested that you two shouldn't be partners. Surely, that doesn't come as a surprise, Baby Einstein."

"I tried to get him to stay," James added. He uncrossed his arms and took another small step towards Mac. "I assured him you'd come to your senses soon, that your work was too important to let anything so petty as hurt feelings derail it. After all, a career isn't as trivial as The Boy Scouts, but I'm certain you know how stubborn the man can be especially when he believes he knows you a lot better than I do."

"He's not wrong about that." Mac resisted the urge to debate his father's subtle subtext that suggested Mac was acting childishly and throwing what amounted to a temper tantrum. He refused to get sidetracked. Instead he lifted his chin in defiance. "Jack knows me better than anyone."

"We get it, blondie. You and Captain Co-dependence are of one mind." Matty stepped in between Mac and James. She met Mac's gaze, her eyes betraying her as her expression went from hard ass director to concerned friend. "It's one of the reasons we're here, Mac. We thought he might have tried to reach out to you. When we found his car, we found the burner phone in the floorboard and …"

"Wait, what do you mean you found his car? What aren't you telling me?" Mac's gaze went from Matty to Bozer, his chest tightening at Bozer's expression. For the second time that day he felt his heart in his throat.

"The Shelby was off the road on Altadena Drive, just outside Eaton Canyon," Bozer answered, gently. "There was blood on the steering wheel and splattered on the windshield."

Mac's alarm must have shown on his face because Matty reached up and gripped his arm, her gaze not wavering as she stared directly at him. "Not enough for a bullet wound, Mac." She let go quickly, as if the move had been a reflex which caught her by surprise. "There was no sign this was a hit or even that Jack was seriously injured. We're thinking abduction."

"We go to Eaton Canyon sometimes when we want to get in some training besides a regular run," Mac stated calmly, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears. He ran a hand over his mouth, swallowing hard. "The trail is more rugged than most near the city. They have horses, too. Jack goes out there to ride occassionally."

"The images Riley pulled from the traffic cams in that area after we discovered the Shelby showed Jack was travelling that way just before sunrise." Matty nodded as if what Mac was saying fit in with what their timeline and preliminary investigation had revealed. "We figured he was more than likely going to get in an early morning workout."

"He would have wanted to get there before the crowds." Mac agreed, shoving both hands through his hair. He was unable to stop the condemning thought that under normal circumstances Jack would have probably swung by and picked him up. Back when James MacGyver was merely a ghost, they would have headed out for a box of blueberry basil donuts and coffee before hitting the trail. Mac should have been there. He blinked hard, feeling bile burn the back of his throat. He wanted to blame himself, but decided there was enough culpability for his father as well. He glared at the man. "Did Riley get a hit on any other cars? Anything suspicious or any facial recognitions that might fit with any of our previous cases. What about Murdoc? This has his name written all over it."

"Murdoc's not involved. This was Jonah Walsh." James answered, his eyes never leaving Mac's face. "We have proof he was in the area in the same time frame. His prints were also lifted from Jack's apartment."

" _Your_ Jonah Walsh. What the hell, dad? " Mac clenched his hands as his heart slammed against his chest, adrenaline priming his fight or flight reflexes. He willed himself to breathe through his nose though it felt like he'd just had a sledge hammer deftly swung at his midsection. The fact the strike was metaphorical didn't make Mac's sudden need to throw up on Oversight's shoes any less real.

"We think Walsh was acting on the orders of Luis Gomez."

Mac tore his gaze from his father's stoic face, to Matty who'd answered, fighting hard to keep the sudden panic at bay. "Why? Why would you think that?"

"Because since you three destroyed Gomez's facility in Mexico there's been some chatter that he's become extremely interested in certain American targets. That he's even shifted resources to find the men responsible for his loss. He has names and of course thanks to Walsh also knows a great deal about Phoenix and what we do. "

"Apparently. Luis is a big old sore lose," Bozer put his unique spin on the situation. "He's pissed at you, Jack and your dad and wants payback. This is worse than when you destroyed the football field and had the whole team gunning for you."

"Why am I just now hearing about this?" Mac returned his attention to his father. "How could you think it was a good idea to keep _this_ to yourself? Put aside the fact you've kept everything else from me, this is my life we're talking about, my _partner's_ life."

"See my earlier point, son. It's hard to communicate with someone when I have no idea how to reach them." James said in that same cool matter of fact tone that had Mac's pulse on the rise once again, his temper on a precarious edge. He had the sudden urge to channel Jack and throat punch the man.

"You could have told Jack." Mac's knuckles turned white, his nails digging painfully into the palms of his hands as he fought for restraint.

"Dalton took his lead from you and quit his position before I had a chance. It's not procedure to share highly classified intel with civilians, Angus."

"Don't call me that and don't hide behind proper procedures. We should have known what was going on as soon as you found out." Mac pointed at his father, his anger burning. Even if he wanted to stop he couldn't. He had held back his emotions for far too long. Lashing out, even only verbally felt good. "How do I know you didn't want something like this to happen? I wouldn't put it past you to use us as bait to draw Jonah out in the open. Was Jack kind of maneuver? Another manipulation? You did after all say you would stop at nothing to see your old friend rotting in a cell."

"Mac, it was chatter." Matty spoke up. "Oversight was on top of the situation. He had me check in with Dalton, who assured me you were fine. I knew he was okay so we saw no need to jump at shadows."

"So you told Jack about the threat?" Mac knew that wasn't possible. His partner would have been on the first plane to Puerto Rico, Mac's desire for space be damned. "Or maybe you passed off some secret clues in a game of cat and mouse, Matty." Mac knew it was a low blow but he couldn't help himself. He was grateful for Matty's attempts to help him find his father, at least the intentions behind it, but still wasn't sure why she didn't just give him the information in the first place. As much as that betrayal stung, this was a hundred times worse. This was Jack's life.

"Not exactly." Matty shook her head, glancing to James before refocusing on Mac. "My request to put a security detail on Jack's place was not well received."

Mac wondered if that had also been a point of contention between the director and Oversight, once more confounded by whatever bond the two shared that kept Matty from acting on her instincts and her insistence to protect James MacGyver. When Jack wasn't teasing Mac that it was lust on their boss's part, he insisted that it was more than likely born from loyalty. James had apparently saved Matty's hide on several occasions, but of course there was always the possibility that Matilda Weber and James MacGyver were merely cut from the same cloth and incapable of telling the truth.

"You know as well as I do that all the information that comes down the pipe isn't reputable," Matty continued, tugging at the ends of her jacket. "It takes time to decide what's true and even my contacts at The Farm or the Bureau weren't sure who'd leaked the information. It seemed unnecessary to share at the time so…"

"So you sat on your hands and demurred to Oversight until Jack was taken by a maniac like Gomez?" Mac interrupted heatedly, brows drawn together.

"Angus."

"Mac."

His father and Bozer spoke simultaneously. Both looked disappointed, but Bozer's obvious shock at the venom Mac's tone held had more effect. Mac blew out a long breath of air, glancing to Matty. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes of reclaiming some cool-the collectedness under pressure that he was known for. Pena's voice played in his head, wise words about not allowing emotions to take his focus from the simple matter of solving a problem-'work the bomb, don't let it work you'. When he opened them once more Matty was watching him with an amused expression. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm just sick of all the secrets."

"Then you are in the wrong business, blondie." Matty rolled her eyes. "Secrets are pretty much the standard in the spy game, a fact both you and Dalton are well aware of."

"Maybe that's why we quit." It wasn't true of course, not exactly. Mac had long since decided that there were some things about his job that weren't exactly honorable, that turned his stomach if he pondered on them too long, but the endgame was always for the betterment of mankind. Helping people, saving lives, always appeased his conscious just enough.

"We all know why you quit, son, and I'll try to make a mends for that if you'll give me a chance."

Six months ago, hell, even six weeks ago, Mac might have jumped on the offer. He might have found it in his heart to give his father another chance, the undeniable biological link between them reason enough for the possible risk. James MacGyver had after all passed down half of Angus MacGyver's genetic material, helping create the man he was now. That demanded consideration. Except Mac, despite being a scientist, was only beginning to understand that he was who he was because of another man, one who had not been present at his conception, but had been a significant contributor to his growth and shaping for the past eight years.

"No. I'm sorry, but there's only one thing I need from you, Oversight, sir." Mac swallowed and shook his head slightly. "Your help in getting my partner back."

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Nature v/s Nurture

By: Ridley

A/N: Thank you to all those who have kindly reviewed and messaged. Your thoughts and comments are so appreciated and honestly make my day. Thanks to Mary, who made this much better than it would have been otherwise.

RcJ

" _Entanglement theory is based on quantum physics. Pyhysicists have learned that two particles-like electrons-that have interacted in the past but moved on will still behave as if they're the same entity. Meaning, if you change one, the other changes instantly and to the same degree. They are always connected. Always in tune with each other, no matter where they are."_ –'The Ones We Choose', Julie Clark

Jack Dalton's head pounded with the fast rhythm of his heart. It was a hell of a painful drum solo and he squinted with watering eyes against the shafts of light which felt more like solar flares burning his retinas than the mere spears of sunlight streaming through a barred window above him. His stomach churned, threatening to empty its contents which would prove even more unpleasant than usual considering his mouth was covered with Duct tape. The former Delta didn't relish asphyxiating his own vomit. He focused on taking slow, calming breaths. Concentrating on the stifling, stale air he could inhale instead of letting the panic train runaway with him as feelings of disorientation and confusion joined in the with physical assault on his senses.

The art of not completely losing one's shit when an op went sideways and a guy found himself bound and gagged in an unfamiliar setting was all about perspective, the ability to see the positive in any and every situation. As Jack was fond of saying, a man had to have a bit of a sense of humor about such things. Take for instance he was now obviously laying on solid ground, albeit a dank and dirty one of poorly set cement- which had not been the case the first time he'd pulled himself from a drugged stupor.

The gentle hum of a plane engine, the tell-tale sway of a bird in air, had heralded Jack's initial return to consciousness. As much as he loved to fly, being bound and gagged in a cargo bay was never a good means of transportation, even for a seasoned traveler like himself. If Jack had his druthers, he'd always choose the cockpit every single time, but he didn't mind being a passenger if he trusted the pilot. As it was, considering the last face he remembered seeing before taking his impromptu nap was Jonah Walsh, he had serious doubts about who was at the helm. The thought of Jonah Walsh had Jack trying the binds that were so tight they'd almost cut off the blood-flow to his hands. Still, being grounded gave better odds of escape. There was at least no complications of compromised air pressure or securing a parachute on the way out the exit.

On another good note, Jack was still breathing. No one had put a bullet in his head as of yet, although he supposed if that had been the objective old Jonah would have finished him up after effectively running him off the road. Jack blamed the fact he'd left some skin on the steering wheel of the Shelby on letting Walsh gain the upper hand. The man, to his credit, could move swiftly for someone so damn big, a monstrous linebacker who could also gracefully run the ball, like some freakish hulking gazelle.

Jack had barely managed to escape his seatbelt and half stumble, half fall out of the Shelby when the bastard had been on top of him, literally. It might not have been a fair fight, but Jack hadn't let that stop him from giving just as good as he got. Almost. He at least hoped the traitor's broken nose was smarting like hell. Jack would have added a fractured jaw and possibly a crushed windpipe if one of Walsh's buddies hadn't stepped in and shot Jack point blank in the upper right chest. Not with a bullet. But with a huge ass dart. Another positive, Jack supposed, although he could still feel the throbbing in his shoulder even as the drug contained in the cylinder wreaked a certain kind of havoc that had him thinking a quick kill might have been a whole hell of lot easier on him in the long run. He tried to twist his hands, anything that would give him a little leverage to get the blood circulation flowing again.

"Look who's finally awake." Jonah Walsh's voice was annoyingly loud in the small block box and irritatingly chipper. Jack would have liked to have had time to get his hands loose from the biting binds, or at the most had a chance to orient himself before his bastard of a host showed, but it seemed luck was not his lady today as the disgraced agent appeared as if out of nowhere hovering above him. Apparently stealth was also one of Jonah's skills, or maybe he had the ability to transmogrify, or whatever the hell you called it when a guy could de-materialize and then reform himself in a different location. Or it was possible Jack was still a bit loopy.

He hoped the glower he sent the man conveyed the giant 'fuck you' he was mentally projecting. Despite Mac's vehement assertion that things like transmogrification and other such paranormal activity weren't at all possible, just once Jack wished he could manage some Jedi mind powers as James MacGyver's former partner took a knee in front of him, amusement making the corners of his mouth twitch. He supposed the bandage across the man's nose, the trace of faint bruising underneath each eye would have to suffice.

"Use your words, Jackie boy. You're liable to break something thinking so hard." Jonah reached out and jerked the tape from Jack's mouth in one smooth motion that had him grinning broadly and Jack unable to hold back a hiss of pain.

"Sorry," Jonah said, snidely, obviously not one bit repentant. "Better to remove the Band-Aid quickly you know. It doesn't hurt so much that way."

"Glad you're concerned." Jack managed hoarsely, after swallowing down a good bit of bile. He coughed, fighting hard to not make a sound when the slight movement sent another stabbing pain through his head. His throat felt like he'd been gargling sand and he longed for some water even if the thought of consuming anything had his stomach churning like the fancy bullet blender he'd bought Bozer for Christmas last year.

As much as Jack might have liked to have thrown up on Walsh's boots, figuring projectile vomiting was a super power in its own right, he really didn't cotton showing the bastard anymore damned weakness. Trussed up like a roped calf and lying at the man's feet was bad enough without Jack tossing his cookies like some rookie. Instead he clenched his jaw, swallowed again, his heart pounding, before managing a smirk of his own. "Wasn't so sure you had my best interest at heart, pard, not when you ran me off the road, drugged and kidnapped me."

"Damned if I don't like you, Dalton." Jonah still had a grin on his face. He took a seat on the floor, surprising Jack again by being able to cross his legs like he did yoga every day instead of bashing heads for sport. "I didn't think I would, honestly. But under other circumstances I think we'd get on like wildfire."

"Forgive me if I have a hard time buying that." Jack managed to lift his head off the floor and give it a little shake. "Attempted murder and shitty accommodations aside, there's the fact I can't move my hands or feet –" He wrinkled his nose. "and I'm pretty sure I might have pissed my pants at some point. I've never been much for masochism."

"Sorry about that. It _was_ a long flight to our little piece of paradise. And you did break my nose, after all." Jonah scratched his bearded chin, looking thoughtful. "We might have overdone it on the tranq, but you're about as tough as a bull elephant. We'll scrounge you up some clean drawers, maybe even manage a more comfortable stay once you and I get a few things straight."

"If you'd wanted to chat, we could have done that at my place. Even had a couple of cold beers." Mac had always told Jack he had a poor grasp of survival instincts when it came to the concept of holding back and keeping his mouth shut when it was clearly in his best interest to do so. Jack really couldn't help it. Something about being at the mercy of the enemy inspired his inner bastard, spurred his lips to run free like a goosed bronc. He cocked a brow at Walsh. "You could have shared how it felt to not only stab your partner in the back but also sell out your country in the process."

"Sounds like Jimmy has been filling your head with all sorts of sad tales about me." Walsh didn't quite mask his flash of temper and Jack felt a momentary satisfaction. It wasn't the rush like making contact with a good head butt would have brought, but he'd take whatever ground he could get. Jonah's eyes hardened, his mouth thinning. "My old pal has a flare for the dramatic, especially when someone disappoints him or doesn't live up to his expectations. Tell me, is little Angus a self-righteous, sanctimonious sonofabitch like his daddy? You know the old saying about the apple not falling far from the tree."

Jack quickly saw that Jonah could use his words too. He liked to believe he was quicker with schooling his reaction to the verbal jousting though and willed a neutral expression which was made even harder by the painful angle he was holding his head. "Hell, man, in this case I'm not convinced the fruit came from the same damn orchard."

"I don't know Dalton," Jonah sighed, propped his elbows on his knees. "James MacGyver is typically the smartest man in any room. Except maybe when your genius partner is present. Despite his ditching the kid early in the game, Jimmy seems to have imparted his share of smarts, maybe even a bit of his what I used to call his fondness for only seeing a situation in black and white." The old, dark amusement was back on Walsh's face. "Let's be clear. I'm not talking about him being color blind."

"Whereas as his partner, you didn't mind some fifty shades of gray." Jack would just as soon shift the conversation away from Mac. He had done a little research on Jonah Walsh and James MacGyver since he'd had a fair amount of spare time since quitting Phoenix. Riley had used her magic fingers and garnered him their personnel files. Their two man team had been impressive back in the day, but Jonah had also had his shares of reprimands and warnings.

"Hell, Jack-can I call you Jack- why do you think he picked me? It's easy to walk a straight line when the guy covering your six has no qualms about walking outside the boundaries. Surely you get that." Something dark twinkled in Jonah's eyes. "Why do you think he picked _you_ for his precious progeny? You sure as hell ain't no Boy Scout."

"Boy Scout or not, maybe James figured I'd not stab his son in the back the first opportunity I got."

Jonah laughed, rubbed his beard again. "Well, now, I see why you'd like to think that, but FYI we chose you long before me and Jimmy had our parting of ways."

"We?" Jack winced. Once again he felt bile rise in his throat but this time it was for a completely different reason than the concussion and drugs lingering in his system.

"Oh yeah, I had a hand in it. I was on the shortlist of people James MacGyver would ever trust with something so important. In fact, I put the initial candidates together when baby boy's training officer got himself blown to hell and back by The Ghost. James wanted backup in place so I handpicked the top three potential targets as they were." Jonah tilted his head, unflinchingly holding Jack's gaze to prove he wasn't bullshitting. Jack's stomach lurched again at the knowing gleam in the other man's gaze, the thought that Mac's dad had played such a heavy-handed part in how they were brought together. If his partner had gotten wind of the truth, then Mac running off to Puerto Rico-far away from Jack- suddenly made a whole different kind of sense.

"Don't look so gutted, Jack. If it means anything, you weren't _my_ first choice. I liked your sniper skills and the all around bad-assery vibe was undeniable, but I wasn't convinced General Perseus Hammond was going to be so agreeable to what James was suggesting. Then there was your big old Texas sized heart to contend with. Even a record of kills like yours couldn't taint the hero-complex everyone you served with seemed to see. Besides I had my eye on a Navy SEAL with a little more bite." Jonah threw his hands in the air in a 'what-was-i-supposed-to-do-gesture'. "Of course Matilda Weber had to go and stick her cute button nose in things and well, James has always had a soft spot for that ballbuster."

Jack had a hundred new questions, first and foremost concerning the part his old CO played in what was proving to be one hell of a convoluted deception. His gut twisted nauseatingly at the thought of what The Hammer might or might not have known about this and if he and James MacGyver were on a first name basis. He refused to give Jonah the satisfaction of asking, instead going with the more pressing topic at hand. "Why the hell am I here, Walsh? What exactly is it you're hoping for? An overdue thank you for the job security? Because I really would like to get out of these zip ties and into some clean clothes."

"I'm just trying to point out that we're being offered a rare opportunity, Dalton. You and me are the same. Us being such successful bad asses have let the MacGyvers be very good geeks. You keep little Angus safe, just like I did with his daddy. As a side benefit they get to save the world, while we also keep their delicate consciences clean." Jonah uncrossed his legs, kicking them out to cross his ankles. He leaned back on his hands as if he and Jack had just copped a squat for a congenial conversation.

"I mean it's easy to get all high and might about not using a gun when the guy bringing up your rear is armed for bear. A man can put a high value on all life as long as someone else is taking out the guys who have you in the crosshairs." Walsh met Jack's gaze, continuing before Jack had a chance to tell Jonah exactly what was on his mind. "Don't let James paint my decision to cut ties as mere greed on my part. After a while, I got tired of being the man's fall guy, especially when I didn't get a lot in return for the sacrifice. When he started questioning not only my methods and motives but my integrity as well, I figured our run best come to an end."

"I got to say as the guy currently stinking of his own piss and who has lost feeling in his hands and feet, I'm not so sure Oversight was wrong in questioning your moral compass, man." Jack narrowed his gaze at Walsh. "My money is on you being a complete sociopath."

Jonah let out a belly laugh, not offended in the least. "Says the man who'd snap my neck the first time I gave him half the chance."

"But I'm not the one trying to convince _you_ of my sweet side." Jack growled, the pain in his appendages and pounding through his skull making it extremely difficult to keep his cool. "News flash. I don't have one. In fact, I plan on ripping your fucking heart out of your chest and shoving it down your throat before we're done. In the mean time I wish you would get to the point, unless you went to all this trouble to kidnap me just so you could play the misunderstood, misrepresented party in your and Oversight's pissing contest." The muscles along Jack's neck burned from holding his head up and he could still feel whatever was in the dart wreaking havoc in his system. "Are you hoping you two might get back together? Be best buds again? And that I could put in a good word like we're still in high school. I hate to break it to you but I could give a shit about you or Oversight at this point."

"But you do care about baby boy. My money says you love that kid." Jonah sighed as if he felt bad for Jack. He sat up straight once more, bringing his feet in again. He nudged Jack with his boot, shaking his head. "That unabashed affection and loyalty you feel for Mini Mac has probably had you in similar suck ass situations to this particular one. I get it, man. I do. I mean, all in all, I took about six bullets for Jimmy during the thirteen years we were in the field." Jonah lifted his shirt, revealing a rock hard plane of muscle and landscape of scar tissue. "Lost my spleen, and a kidney for my trouble. I was stabbed three times. And concussions…well, let's just say I'm not counting on being very coherent during retirement. I'm probably competing with some NFL players for the most scrambled neuro scans."

"Is this where I'm supposed to show you mine, because if you free my hands I'd be glad to give you a peak at what a real physique should look like…" Jack spat, working hard to get a devil-may-care-grin back on his face.

"This is where I explain that you don't have to take another hit for that skinny brat," Jonah interrupted, arching a brow. "It's not like I think you will do the sensible thing and listen to me, but as a fellow Delta I thought I'd at least give you the opportunity to go about this the easy way. Never mind that you're going to help me bring Angus MacGyver here, with or without your cooperation, the kid's going to finish the project his father started."

"You want Mac to complete the Super Soldier drug?" Jack actually laughed, although the thought of Jonah Walsh once more having Mac in his clutches released the panic train that Jack had managed to temporarily keep tethered at the station. He shook his head, although it made the room spin. A knifing pain ripped through his skull and suddenly there were two of Walsh. Jack blinked up at the big man, hoping to merge the twin wavering forms before him. The vision made him consider throwing up again. What the hell had been in that dart?

"I thought you had done your research, Johann Schmidt." Jack knew his partner would have rolled his eyes at the Captain America reference but he couldn't stop himself. Winter Soldier would have been a perfect codename for this op. "The one thing I can truly say that my partner inherited from his bastard of a father is the mile wide stubborn streak. No one makes Angus MacGyver do something he doesn't want to do. Trust me when I say that formulating some freaking drug that kills soldiers in the name of trying to turn them into more efficient war machines like some modern day Frankenstein is not something he's ever going to be on board with."

"His daddy was real indignant about KX7, too, especially after he saw it wasn't going to be as clean and neat as he liked things to be. James couldn't look past his own ego or that moral standard he likes to cling to. Helping soldiers stay alive was worth a bit of dirty work on the front end if you ask me." Jonah brushed at something on his jeans, looking completely at ease. "I hoped Angus, actually having walked in a soldier's boots himself might see things differently than his civie daddy."

"Dude, you act as if a massive heart attack and Bruce Banner fits of rage are mild side effects." Jack had seen the videos. It made what Steve Rogers and his pal Bucky Barnes went through look like a walk in the park. "I'm not sure any soldier could get behind what you've done in the name of promoting that drug, Walsh."

"So a few men have lost their lives." Jonah's voice hardened, all attempts at calm and collected disappearing under a red face and clenched fists. "If it makes you feel better, the test subjects had committed crimes of war. And bloodshed aside, we've made progress. You should understand better than most that countless men have given their lives in service of lesser causes, sometimes without so much as a fucking thank you for their sacrifice. At least the men who died to get KX7 shelf ready will serve an honorable purpose. Just imagine if this drug had been available or gone to the right people in the CIA or Joint Forces when James first dreamed it up, there's no telling how many men and women could have been saved."

"If the whole point of this conversation is for me to believe you want that drug up and running for any other reason than the fact it is going to make you a very rich son of bitch, you're wasting your breath." Jack suppressed the urge to try his bindings again. Why did all the bad guys love long monologues?

"You have a problem with getting rich in the process of helping our brothers in the fight?" Jonah gave a derisive snort in disbelief. "Even heroes like you can appreciate a good payday."

"I have a problem with men who profit from other people's pain, evil sonsofbitches like Luis Gomez." Jack had no doubt who was pulling the strings behind his abduction. Walsh might be wily, but he didn't have the kind of resources it took to stay off the radar as long as he had and then to waltz right back into the states with the whole CIA, FBI and Phoenix looking for him. Jack forced another grim grin. "I'm guessing he wasn't too happy with you after my boy torched that distribution center and mad scientist lab in Mexico."

"It's not me who has to worry about what James and his kid destroyed, Dalton. Luis is going to demand a pound of flesh, which will more than likely come from you. I did make Mr. Gomez aware of your rare skillset and he's been brought up on the fact that you're currently unemployed." Jonah once more got a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "He's a ruthless tyrant, I'll give you that, but he's also a very smart businessman. A sniper of your talent is too valuable to waste just so he feels vindicated. He'll surely have me hurt you for some deserved payback, but he won't order you killed, at least not until he gets what he wants."

"I gotta say that doesn't make me feel much better about his little visit." Jack wished like hell he could move his hands. He'd have kindly wrapped them around Walsh's throat and put him out of his misery. As it was, the best he could do was to provoke the man into finishing him off before he was used as leverage against his partner and James MacGyver. "As much as I appreciate the recommendation to your psycho drug lord of a boss, I was looking more at heading to Hawaii and opening my own security firm not that I'm free of Phoenix. As tempting as this offer to betray my country and become a complete sell out like yourself, I'm going to have to pass. You can take the job offer and the whole HYDRA serum scheme and shove it up your ass."

"I wonder if little Angus will be so quick to brush off this opportunity, especially when my sales team makes sure the presentation is unforgettable." Jonah crossed his arms over his chest, looking not one bit rebuffed and completely confident of his position.

"Mac's not impressed by a good pitch. Having spent all those years with James MacGyver you should understand that."

"Yes, but I'm guessing he won't be so quick to let his father's holier than though hustle get in the way of saving his best friend. He'll do what we ask and even convince his pain in the ass daddy to do the same. After all, _you_ were the one who said he's _not_ his father's son." Walsh leaned over Jack, one hand pressing on the other man's shoulder where the dart had gone in. Jack fought back the urge to groan as bruised, burning flesh reignited. "Angus is _your_ boy, Jack, through and through. That's good news for me. In fact, I'm guessing the kid isn't just some pie in the sky pacifist. When his back's against the wall, he's going to react not so much like his daddy-who has left my ass high and dry before by the way- but more like the man who raised him, and I'm not speaking about good old Harry, rest his soul."

"You're giving me too much credit, Walsh." Jack growled, his voice strained and breathless. He was desperate to convince the man that he was wrong. The man Mac had become was partially his fault, and although he was proud as hell of the kid, there were things he wished he hadn't handed off. The instinct to do anything for the people you loved, even if it meant sacrificing your strong held beliefs and even your very life, being first and foremost in Jack's mind.

"I don't think so, Dalton." Jonah shoved off of Jack's shoulder with a malicious smile. "We both know baby boy will do whatever it takes to save you, even if it costs him some sleepless nights and a little bit of his soul in the process. Why not just save yourself-and the kid- a lot of pain and for once do things the easy way? Money and job aside, trust me when I say it's in your best interest to make sure the smartest man in any room is working on Mr. Gomez's serum."

Jack blinked hard, trying to slow his breathing now that pain wasn't lancing through his upper body. He would have welcomed blacking out if Jonah wasn't leering at him. "Oh yeah, why's that, tough guy?"

"Because, when Angus and his daddy are done perfecting KX7, you, my friend, are going to be the first lucky test subject."

Jack watched Jonah leave, noting the metal door he closed behind him, listening for the tell-tale tumble of several sets of locks being secured. He let his head rest against the pavement once more, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried in vain to free his hands while keeping his breath steady. Jack felt the warm blood trickle down his wrists, but gained no give in the binds. "Well, shit, Wyatt." He growled, blowing out a huff of breath. "This is so not how I planned on getting super powers."

RcJ

 _"Biology matters. It links you-definitively-to your family. No matter how hard we try, we can't erase what's already written inside."-The Ones We Choose, Julie Clark_

"Riley, what do you have?" Mac sat at Carlos's table, staring at the computer set up that Bozer had brought with them, his hands restlessly moving, wishing for some paperclips. Riley was visible from The War Room back at Phoenix, the scene achingly familiar. She was sitting on the couch, fingers flying over her keyboard. Leanna was there, too, although she and Jill were engrossed on another computer, their heads bowed close. Mac could barely hear the murmuring of their quiet conversation.

He almost expected Riley to give him a typical, exasperated scowl, assuring Mac as she often did Jack that reframing and repeating the same question ten times would in fact not change her response. Riley held back on the snippy reply he could see forming in her dark eyes as she glanced at him from over the top of her rig.

"So far I have an extensive list of all the property holdings that Gomez is linked to legally, as well as another one of possible holdings purchased through shell foundations or with known aliases." Her eyes moved from Mac to the screen and back, fingers typing. "The man has an impressive portfolio."

"Did you apply the filters and specific parameters that I sent?" Oversight leaned across Mac's shoulder so he could be seen on camera. A scent of familiar woodsy cologne drifted to him threatening to open a Pandora's box of childhood memories. Mac grit his teeth, shoving thoughts of him as a little boy climbing into his father's chair with some book or another in hand aside. He resisted flinching when the man brushed against his back, his presence somehow magnifying the fact that Jack was painfully absent. "It was in my earlier email."

"I did," Riley nodded, albeit a little clipped. "I ruled out anything within the United States, as well as dismissing locations that would require more than one layover stop for refueling in a small plane."

"You were right about Gomez's last whereabouts being in his villa in Chile," Leanna spoke up, still looking a little unsure. Mac remembered being the new person on the team, the years melting away as he thought back to his first time in a much different War Room. Facing Patricia Thornton had been daunting then. He could only imagine having to report directly to Oversight. She lifted her heard, meeting MacGyver's gaze before focusing solely on her boss. "We have confirmation from the DEA that they had an agent with eyes on him less than forty-eight hours ago."

"Director Weber is in contact with several agencies with operations in that area. We're hoping to verify a more recent time line." Mac let his father speak, his line of sight drifting through the entranceway to where he could see Matty. She was on her phone, the tense set of her body proving she was most likely reaming someone a new one to get the information she wanted. It somehow lessoned Mac's anxiety a little. Matty might mystify him at times, but he knew she cared about their team, about Jack.

"So we should focus on South America holdings, Davis," James concluded, bringing Mac's thoughts back to the present and his focus to the computer.

"Is there anything in Columbia or Bolivia?" Mac asked Riley.

"No, but a few years ago there was an odd purchase of a wildlife refuge near Cusco, Peru on the outskirts of the Manu National Park. It seems, someone, obviously Gomez is passionate about the preservation of the spectacled bear, also known as the Andean bear."

"The Manu National Park area is deep in the jungle, some parts only accessed by the river or air." The knot in Mac's gut twisted. Satellite imagery would be hard to obtain, and the terrain would be more difficult than that they traversed in Mexico on horseback. Mac and Jack had run an operation out of Lima when they first started working at DXS. At that time there had been an extensive drug trade, but falls in coca cultivation brought a shift to Columbia in later years. He sifted through the files in his memories for any significant facts. "I don't remember any mention of endangered bears."

"That's because Andean bears mostly stick to the Andes mountain range. They like cloud forests, even those that reach the snow line. I told you it was an odd purchase."Riley once more met Mac's gaze over the rim of her screen. "The bears aren't even endangered."

"But a humanitarian effort makes perfect cover for any sort of illegal operations." Mac ran a hand through his hair. "Is there any way to check the air traffic coming into that area, flight manifests?"

"The international airport in Cusco operates at a limited capacity because it's located in the center of the city, but still handles thousands of flights, Mac." Riley shook her head, fingers still typing. "Then you have all the private airstrips and illegal smuggling rings. I've been running facial recognition programs on all the footage I obtained from the Alejandro Velasco Airport and have come up with nothing."

"Jonah wouldn't go that route," James inserted, straightening. He thoughtfully stroked his chin. "He knows our surveillance capability. If this is our location, then I'd put money on a private strip up river, taking a boat to this supposed refuge."

"There is a road, at least," Riley confirmed. "Although from sat maps, I can't see much. I'm not sure it would truly qualify by our standards."

"We have a team near Miami," James spoke, although Mac wasn't sure if his father was musing out loud now or addressing him. "They could be to Lima in less than five hours. If they were to scout the area and give a sit rep back…"

"No." Mac shook his head, his hands clenched. "We need to be there. _I_ need to be there. It's roughly seven hours for us from San Juan. In your private jet which I'm sure is waiting at the ready, probably less."

"Mac, we're not even sure this is where they took Jack." Riley pointed out, concern in her eyes. Mac knew she had to be just as worried about Jack as he was, but as usual was doing an excellent job of remaining unruffled. "Gomez has other holdings in other out of the way locations. Even if Gomez was last seen in South America, this is a long shot."

Mac knew she was right, but something told him Cusco was the place. He glanced at his father. "Put other teams on the top three locations Riley narrows down, but I want to be in Cusco by the morning."

"Do I need to remind you that you're no longer with Phoenix, Angus?" James frowned at his son. "We came here for intel gathering, not to invite a civilian to join us on a top secret mission."

"I'm going to let you go, Riley." Mac figured his voice must have sounded as dangerous as he imagined because not only did Riley stop what she was doing, but both Leanna and Jill were watching him warily when he took his gaze from his father long enough to meet Riley's now wide expressive eyes. Mac didn't give his teammate time to respond before ending the connection and closing the laptop. He stood, facing Oversight. "You really think you can keep me out of this?"

"I think I need _agents_ on board." James folded his arms over his chest, his gaze boring into Mac's. "In fact, I'd have free reign of resources and man power on this rescue mission if I was going in to save one of my own people instead of a former agent, who left without much notice or any just cause. There are people I answer to. The position of Oversight doesn't give me carte blanche, son." Something close to smugness briefly crossed his face. "If you come back to Phoenix, I'll assume Dalton would also return. We'll consider his reinstatement a matter of record. That will go a long ways in explaining why I'm willing to pull teams from other missions."

"You're blackmailing me?" Mac couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father, the man he'd been dismayed by, yes, angry with, most definitely, but still very much the man Mac also revered and respected was proving himself to be quite ruthless in a way he hadn't expected. "Are you really using Jack as leverage to get me back under your thumb?"

"You working for me at Phoenix was never about you being under my thumb, son," James snapped, holding his hands up in a gesture of frustration. "I was trying to take care of you, damn it, to watch over you, just as I'm now trying to show you that you've let your emotions blind you to what's in your best interest. You belong at Phoenix. Your talents are wasted elsewhere. It's your legacy."

"If you really cared about what was in my best interest you would not be holding a job over my head at a time like this. My best friend was kidnapped by your partner. We both know why. He want's that serum and he expects by taking Jack that he'll force my hand, and therefore lure you back in." Mac snapped, eyes flashing.

"Then you understand even if Cusco is the right place, we're walking into a trap. We're giving Jonah exactly what he wants. The two people who could feasibly complete the serum," James said again in that matter-of-fact-tone that Mac had grown to detest. It was right up there with nails on a chalk board.

"I do, which is why I know if we send any other team in our place than Jack is as good as dead. Gomez will kill him or do worse things than put a quick bullet in his head." Mac fought to keep his voice even though what he really wanted to do was to scream. He wouldn't give his father the satisfaction.

"We can't give them KX7." James's jaw set in a very familiar fashion, a look of stubbornness settling like stone in his features which Mac instantly recognized. It brought a pang of sympathy for his old professors, Pena, and especially for Jack. His partner had been right when he'd pointed out the similarity between the MacGyver men, their tendency to think they knew every damn thing. "If that serum fell into the wrong hands…"

"We'd be dealing with our very own HYDRA," Mac finished, thinking of Jack's comparison to the drug his father had created with the one that created super soldiers in the Avengers universe. Just thinking of ISIL or al-Queda having access to such had him wishing he'd not let Kamila talk him into eating dinner.

"Who?" James frowned.

Mac waved his father's lack of cultural awareness away with a shake of his head, also dismissing his dark foreshadowing thoughts and his rebellious stomach. He sighed. "I'm not saying that we do that, Dad, but knowing KX7 is what they want, gives us the upper hand, unlike in Mexico when we were blindsided."

"Jonah's no Neanderthal, Angus. He's tactically brilliant and willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish any mission he begins." James uncrossed his arms, looking weary all of the sudden. "I know him, just as you know Dalton. Jonah won't stop until I've given him what he wants or I'm dead. I imagine he'd prefer both ends actually."

"Why is that exactly?" Mac stared at his father. He'd called Jonah his Dalton more than once. If that were true, then there had to be some shred of connection left between the two men. Mac had been furious with Jack in the past, understood Jack had probably felt the same of him at times. They'd come to blows more than once. But Mac loved Jack like a brother, counted that the feeling was mutual and probably returned three fold, just because Jack's heart was huge and his emotional range wasn't as limited as Mac's could be sometimes. Mac knew Jack would never willingly hurt him, and he would never intentionally cause harm to the man who'd been his fierce protector, partner and at times helicopter parent all rolled into one. There was a bond there that couldn't be tarnished by time or misunderstandings. Greed was powerful, but betrayal at such a level was hard for Mac to comprehend. His father was obviously hiding something. Which wasn't one bit surprising.

"It's extremely complicated," James finally admitted, raking a hand through his hair. "Things happened on a mission that might have been misinterpreted."

"Which means you aren't going to tell me."

"I might be convinced to share on the flight to Peru, but parts of it are classified."

Mac rolled his eyes. The man was relentless and he didn't know whether to be impressed or worried that he shared more genetic material with the bastard than anyone else left breathing on the planet. "I'll temporarily take my job back at Phoenix, and if it gets Jack back faster, I can give you my word that he'd do the same if he were here."

"Your word is good enough for me. Welcome back, son." James extended his hand, but Mac had a flash of Jack, his partner drawing back as if he'd almost touched a hot stove eye when Mac had revealed Oversight's other identity. He shook his head at his father, keeping his arms glued to his side.

"Be clear that I'd probably work for the devil, maybe even Apple, if it meant saving Jack's life."

"Duly noted." James still had the audacity to look pleased, as if getting his way was something he'd grown extremely accustomed to. "Then we should get on our way," Oversight was primed to take charge. "I have Bozer contacting the chopper to come get us and take us back to the airport. Matty may have more intel from the DEA."

"They're not coming, at least not to Cusco." Mac gestured outside, where he could see his Director and roommate now chatting with Carlos and his family. "Matty and Bozer can stay in Cusco. We need a basecamp in the city. Carlos is going to be our overwatch in the field."

Mac had already talked to his old friend when he'd explained exactly why his father had made the surprise trip to Puerto Rico. Carlos had insisted on being of any help he could, including donning his old hat of soldier. In fact it was Carlos's idea to be part of the rescue, claiming he'd made a promise to Jack to watch Mac's back, and he intended to do just that until Jack was once more in position to do so for himself. Ranger code would not allow him to break a vow to a brother.

Mac could see the rebuttal building in his father's dark eyes, but knew he managed a perfect imitation of the man's earlier stubborn glower, folding his arms over his chest and meeting Oversight's gaze. "You've never had a problem pairing soldiers and scientists before, Dad. After all, it was you who arranged for me and Jack to be assigned together in Afghanistan." Mac couldn't even help the slight smirk when his father flinched, most likely regretting that fateful move now that he had twenty/twenty hindsight. He was further emboldened when the older man sighed in obvious capitulation, realizing there would be no comprising with his son. Mac shrugged. "Besides, Carlos coming on the team shouldn't be a problem. From what I've seen today, you _do_ seem to have carte blanche authority to hire agents on the spot."

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Nature versus Nurture

By: Ridley

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. I hope the fact that this is the longest chapter so far might make up for the lapse between chapters. Please note that having not travelled to beautiful Peru, there may be inaccuracies in my descriptions. I did however take two virtual boat rides of the Amazon all from the comfort of my office at my real job before attempting to write this. I am dedicated like that (grin). It reminded me a little of the boat rides I've taken in the swamps of Louisiana, so I extrapolated from there. Thank you for all the kind reviews and to Mary, who is the best beta ever.

RcJ

" _Genetics is a lottery. Every time chromosomes recombine, you spin the wheel and cross your fingers. It helps to start with a good partner, with traits you want to replicate, but that's no guarantee."_

 _-Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_

Mac studied the lush green canopy on either side of the river they were traversing. The rainforest, mesmerizing for its unique beauty alone, had long ago captured his scientist heart with its vast biodiversity and resiliency, a potential treasure trove of new discoveries waiting to be uncovered. Under any other circumstances he would have been excited for the chance to explore, to take in the total experience, but as it was, his thoughts were consumed by what his partner was enduring at the hands of Jonah Walsh. His father had painted a picture of his former partner that along with Mac's brief encounter with the man had Mac consumed with vivid images of just what they might find when they recovered Jack.

The sounds of monkeys chattering interrupted Mac's morose pondering and he tried to center himself, knowing that macabre musings weren't going to do his partner one bit of good. It wouldn't get them to their destination any faster and Jack needed Mac clear-headed and on task so he concentrated on the low rumble of the small outboard engine, the lapping of the murky waves that hit their boat, letting the pungent smells of the forest ground him in the present and soothe his pounding heart. Mac caught movement out of the corner of his eye, as an alligator slid from the muddy bank into the weak coffee colored water. The sky was the color of cement, the air a similar consistency, but the steel gray above provided the perfect backdrop for flashes of reds and blues as bright plumed birds were flushed by their sudden presence. Mac inhaled though it was a bit like breathing in a steam room. He ran a hand down his sweat slicked face, silently calculating how close they were to the drop off point.

"So, I think I definitely liked the desert better."

At the sudden declaration Mac shifted his gaze to Carlos who was sitting across from him, on the second bench seat of their river boat. His old friend was quieter than his typical overwatch, seemingly taking Mac's own silence as a cue and curbing the chatter. Mac found that he missed Jack's incessant need to talk which was always a much better anchor than any mindful techniques, but he grinned when Carlos gripped his rifle tighter, his wary dark gaze watching the thick undergrowth on either side of them in a very Dalton-like manner.

"Jack always says the same thing anytime we're in a jungle and he hated the desert." Mac swatted at a mosquito that was close to his ear.

"Give me abandoned buildings and Taliban any day of the week. Anything could be in there." Carlos nodded his head as they glided into an even narrower passage of water, trees overhanging to the degree they almost had to duck. "Jaguars. Natives with blow guns. Anacondas."

"Now you really do sound like Jack," Mac snorted. "I think you'll see more monkeys and birds than killer snakes and big cats and I'm pretty sure the indigenous people aren't aggressive. They actually welcome tourists and look at it this way, at least here there's probably no need to have an EOD at your side." Mac's eyes scanned the bright green underbrush when the bird chatter grew in volume.

Carlos followed Mac's gaze, his frown deepening. "No IED's or not, we're not exactly in Disney World, hermano. I didn't see any other tourists on that horrible bus ride we endured from the city. The guides should have paid us to ride on that death trap, and no rollercoaster could compare to that path they called a road. I'm not even going to mention the sheer drop offs we were way too close to."

Carlos's observations brought Mac's thoughts back round to Jack's similar rants. He swallowed a lump of emotion that had lodged in the back of his throat, taking a moment to glance at the dwindling rays of setting sun that were barely visible through the dense cloud cover. He hadn't talked to Jack in weeks, ignoring the texts he'd received, and not merely because he couldn't decipher the code. He clenched his fists against the onslaught of unwanted turmoil, focusing once more on his breathing, fighting to uncoil the hard knot in his stomach.

"If this is your idea of a vacation area then I am beginning to get a new understanding of why Jack worries about you so much," Carlos said.

Mac caught the change in his friend's tone, a clear indicator Carlos perhaps realized where Mac's thoughts had strayed. Mac tried for another grin, but barely managed and he knew Carlos could see it too. "The first time we were in Lima, I talked him into a layover, so we could visit Machu Picchu and the Temple of the Sun. We hadn't been with DXS long and I had never been to Peru. Jack made it happen."

His partner hadn't even put up his usual resistance or tried typical grumbling about Mac's enthusiasm for nerdy expeditions. Instead, he'd humored Mac, buying into the chance to play modern day swashbuckler. He even feigned an injury so Thornton would agree to the downtime. "Jack held up pretty good until he found a tarantula in his Indiana Jones fedora, and then he swore we'd awoken some ancient spirit by trampling through sacred territory." A small grin twitched around Mac's mouth.

"Tarantula?" Carlos blanched.

"Don't worry. They're bites aren't poisonous." Mac pointed to one of the trees they were passing, large brown spots he knew to be the arachnid in question visible. "It feels a little like a bee sting."

"How about I take your word for that." Carlos visibly shuddered, cradling his gun closer. "Lolita will make sure I don't find out for myself. I hate spiders. They filmed _Arachnophobia_ for a reason."

"Then I'd save your bullets for the ones that eat birds, or better yet the Wandering Spider," Mac told him, unable to resist. "Although they're a smaller target, they're actually deadly. From the genus Phonuetria, which means 'murderess' in Greek and…"

"Can we maybe talk about something more pleasant?" Carlos frowned at him, his gaze darting back to the low hanging tree branches they were passing.

"Like what?" Mac bent over, pulling a bandana from the pack at his feet. He flashed Carlos an innocent glance as he folded the material before wrapping it around his head to keep the sweat from his eyes. Mac's clothes were beginning to look like he'd taken a plunge into the piranha infested water. The swarms of mosquitoes around them growing in intensity, filling the air with their buzzing.

"Oh, I don't know, how about the La Ola Cartel?" Carlos lowered his voice although Mac doubted that neither their two guides nor his father could overhear them considering the length of the long boat they occupied. There was a canopy over the back half where James and the men he'd hired sat, the tarp shielding from the elements but also buffering sound.

"I'm pretty sure deadly spiders and killer snakes are safer topics." Mac tied off the bandana, reaching for his water bottle. He took a long drink, as Carlos watched him. The La Ola Cartel was nefarious and into every crime one could imagine.

"Then how about Luis Gomez? Tell me again how a think tank like The Phoenix Foundation got involved with a drug lord?" Carlos raised his brow. "I've heard stories of him. He's not one to be toyed with, and to my knowledge no one's been able to get close enough to bring him down since his father passed the reigns of the business to his hands nearly two decades ago."

Mac wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glancing at James. His father held a map which he and one of the guides were bent over in animated discussion. He'd talked with Mac only about their plan, but Matty had allowed Carlos access to redacted files on their last mission to Mexico, along with including him in the short briefing she held in their hotel room in Cusco. The DEA had agreed to share information with them, including sending one of their own to collaborate and Agent Marcum had gone into rich detail about La Ola and Gomez . Mac wasn't sure if the intel sharing was an act of cross agency good will or that the higher ups at the DEA were merely afraid Phoenix might muck up their year's long infiltration of the cartel.

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose, the first signs of a dehydration headache bringing him back to the moment. After taking another long drink of water, he offered the bottle to Carlos. "I thought it was clear to you by now that we're not just a think tank."

"I was in the military long enough to recognize a spook operation, Mac." Carlos took the bottle, taking a swig before handing it back to Mac. His face showed slight disappointment. "But I thought you might have shed some more light on the whole thing considering I'm apparently a member of your team now."

"Thanks for going along with that, by the way." Mac recapped the water, his jaw clinching when he recalled Camilla's less than enthusiastic acceptance of Carlos's temporary change in careers. He'd gone there to help his friend, not bring more turbulence to his life. "I know it's not the best time for you to be away from your family or the bank."

"The bank owes me considering I helped thwart a robbery and my friends aided in the recovery of their funds, as for my family, they understand what repaying a debt means as well. Honestly, I'd forgotten how much I miss the excitement." Carlos tilted his head, his gaze boring into Mac's. "But you're redirecting, my friend. I knew that you worked for the government, but I didn't see you as a spy."

"I've actually had some doubts about my career path lately as well." Mac traced a design on the plastic bottle, knowing he wasn't answering the other man. Carlos was taking a hell of a risk to help them, but old habits were hard to break and Mac wasn't used to talking freely about what he did or even worse how he might feel about it. Once again his thoughts drifted back to Jack, uncertainty and guilt knotting his gut once more. "Maybe a constantly changing landscape and novel new crisis every day isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"I take it that has something to do with your dad being your boss? Bozer let it slip that it was a relatively new situation." Carlos looked to the front of the boat. Mac followed his line of sight and found his father now talking on the sat phone. They had prepared themselves for the possibility Walsh would have ways of shielding signals from his location and had told Matty they would check in before they neared the outskirts of the reserve. Mac took it as a sign they were getting close, one step nearer to rescuing Jack.

"Turns out him being my boss isn't exactly new, although it's new to me," He chanced a glance at Carlos from beneath hooded lashes, before busying himself putting his water bottle away. "I wasn't privy to the fact that James MacGyver was responsible for hiring me, and has held the position of Oversight for years."

"How's it possible not to know who you work for? I mean, I know spies are all about their secret identities, but that seems a bit extreme."Carlos's brow furrowed, his questioning eyes meeting Mac's. "Was it like a 'Charlie' situation from Charlie's Angels? Or Robin Masters from Magnum P.I.?"

Mac laughed. "One, you've been watching way too much eighties television, and two, you should totally understand being on a mission where the orders came down from above? From some brass in Washington who you wouldn't know from Adam?" Mac fought to keep the words void of emotions, his fingers curling into a fist once more as he realized how foolish he might look for being completely in the dark for so long.

"Of course," Carlos conceded. "You know that I have, but this is your _father._ I get families have different dynamics, but you never mentioned him in basic, only your grandfather and Bozer." He ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "I assumed your parents were dead and it was just too painful to talk about."

"My mom died when I was five." Mac admitted, fingers twitching. It was almost ridiculous but he was aching for one of his paperclips, like some chain smoker desperate for a cigarette. He wasn't sure why he'd never said as much years ago. Carlos was by far his closest confidant in boot camp, his only friend in that place, at least until Carlos had been chosen for Ranger school and Mac met Pena, but he was self-aware enough to understand he didn't share things, especially back then, not even with his closest friends. Bozer was the one exception, and then Jack, in whom he'd found an entirely different level of trust. Yet, ironically, that bond with his partner hadn't kept Mac from running all the way to Puerto Rico when he'd been sucker punched by his father's duplicity. It made him question just how much he truly took after James MacGyver, what other diabolical traits might be waiting to rear their ugly heads.

Mac lifted his gaze to Carlos, a sigh escaping his lips. "Honestly, I wasn't sure if my father was alive or dead. He left when I was ten, and I had no contact with him until three weeks ago when I found out he'd been giving me orders for the past six years. It seems he even had some control over what I did in the Army, hell, maybe even my time at MIT. For all I know, he chose my courses in high school."

"That's screwed up." Carlos sent a furtive glance to the front of the boat, then met Mac's gaze. "Why would he do that and not want you to know?"

"That's the million dollar question." Mac feigned a nonchalance he in no way felt. Even after some time and distance that betrayal still felt like an open wound. His whole world had been shaken in a manner that left him doubting every decision he'd ever made, questioning whether he had blazed his own trail or merely followed the bread crumbs laid out for him by James. Mac had always prided himself on being a free thinker, but now couldn't shake the feeling he'd been manipulated like some puppet, groomed as sure as Gomez's mobster father had probably groomed him to take over the family empire. Mac forced a shrug. "As Jack says James MacGvyer will not be taking Father of the Year anytime soon or getting any cards on Boss's Day."

"Is that all Jack had to say in the matter?" Carlos rested his elbows on his knees, one brow raised.

Mac shook his head at the question, his emotions too near the surface to attempt a response. He smirked, but it felt wrong on his face, humorless. "You know Jack."

Of course Carlos didn't know Jack, not really, but he'd gotten a crash course on Mac's partner's primary role of protector over the last couple of weeks. Carlos glanced towards James again. "From what I do know of Dalton, I'm surprised Oversight is still breathing, or at the least, not eating food through a straw for a good while."

"Jack can show restraint when he needs to." Mac understood the one and only reason his best friend hadn't touched James MacGyver was because he would do anything to keep Mac from being hurt, even if it meant denying his own nature. Jack was afraid Mac would only suffer more if he retaliated against Oversight's deception, or perhaps miss out on the chance to have the dad/son relationship he'd been denied the past fifteen years. Of course, now it was Jack who was suffering and Mac couldn't help but to feel he'd abandoned his best friend, the one person who'd always been in his corner.

"I can't imagine anything that would cause me to stay away from Adriana." Carlos's quiet words brought Mac back to the present. He looked at his friend.

"Not even if you lost Camilla?" He asked before he could stop himself. A part of him desperately wanted Carlos to reconsider, for the thought of losing his wife to somehow change the look of dismay on his face. Mac cleared his throat. "I mean if she died and you were left alone to raise Adriana…"

"Then Adriana would need me even more." Carlos answered quickly, confusion turning to a look of anger as he seemed to put the pieces in place. Mac felt a wave of shame, as ridiculous as he knew that was. It wasn't his fault James had left, but still he wondered if there was something intrinsic that had solidified his father's decision. "She's only a child," Carlos continued. "I would be all she had left, and she would be all I would have left of my wife, making her even more precious."

"I don't think James saw the situation the same way." Mac looked away, focusing on the forest once more. Under different circumstances, if Jack had been the one engaged in the conversation, Mac might have added that his father hadn't seen him at all, at least not as something to value and protect. Instead, James MacGyver had admitted to viewing his young son as a reminder of what he'd lost. Even now, it seemed James saw him as an asset to Phoenix, some kind of investment he fully intended to receive a payout on.

Over the weeks since that fateful conversation in the lab Mac had tried to view his father's confession as to why he'd abandoned his son objectively, and dissect it from every angle. He'd even tried to recall his own feelings when he thought Nikki had been killed, analyzing how that helplessness, anger and grief which threatened to consume him had mutated the man he'd always believed himself to be. Mac hadn't been married to her, and still had barely been able to keep it together, wasn't sure he would have if not for Jack, who'd wisely taken him to the ranch to recover. In the end, Mac had managed to put a lid on the worst of the pain he couldn't deal with, replacing his anger with a drive to bring Nikki's killer to justice. He wasn't sure how that would have worked out if he hadn't discovered Nikki's reuse. The only thing he'd concluded was that grief did strange things to a man.

"Then perhaps your father is a coward." The declaration caught him like a swift punch, snapping his attention back to his friend. It wasn't said with the kind of heat Jack would have used, more observation than curse, but the sentiment was similar.

"Maybe." Mac had considered that as well, figuring a coward was somehow better than a selfish bastard. He rubbed absently over his sweat soaked bandanna. After all, he'd once considered cutting all ties to Jack when they'd first come back from Afghanistan, believing the memories they shared together too painful to face in and out every day.

Although now the very idea of such a severing brought a sharp lance of pain and a different flush of shame, at the time it had seemed a sensible, logical, possibly a remedy for all that ailed him. After all, Jack Dalton was an ever present reminder of all that Mac had been through. Maybe, Mac considered, that was what it had been like for his father. Mac became a walking, talking stumbling block which prevented him from completely compartmentalizing and letting go of his grief. James had merely reacted in self-preservation. Like a wild animal caught in a trap that gnawed its leg off to escape the source of its pain. Mac was merely his father's bloody sacrifice.

"I can hear you think, you know?" Carlos's brows met over his nose as he tilted his head to study Mac. "Being a parent is terrifying, but so are a lot of other worthwhile things. Being responsible for another life is scarier than anything I encountered in the desert or anything hidden in this jungle." Carlos gave a sweeping gesture to the trees. "Doing it alone, without another person to back you up would be even more frightening. It isn't for the faint of heart. Sort of like sweeping a minefield for ordinance. Some men aren't equipped for those kinds of tasks. Just like I wasn't cut out to be Delta."

It sounded so simplistic when Carlos spoke his theory out loud, but the repercussions of James's shortcomings were extremely personal and as much as Mac wanted to believe it was all due to his father's shortcomings as Carlos was trying to point out, he still couldn't disregard the little voice that taunted he was somehow at fault.

"Not everyone is cut out to be a dad," Carlos added. "It could be your father was missing something necessary for the job."

Mac appreciated his friend's attempt to offer a perspective that he was sure Carlos hoped might make Mac feel better, but at the moment there was only one thing Mac wanted or needed, and the person who could provide him with such was being held by a well-trained, rogue operative bent on giving his ruthless boss the means to create super solders. He willed his typical blocks in place and nodded towards the front of the boat. "James may have giant faults when it comes to fatherhood, lapses of judgement when it came to me, but luckily when it comes to _this_ kind of work, he's extremely competent. He's taken down men more powerful than Gomez and disbanded fiercer operations that La Ola. He's not only brilliant, but dependable when it comes to a mission."

Carlos looked as if he wanted to object to their sudden change in topic, but unlike Jack would have, he held back on saying as much and once more took Mac's lead. "Then you're comfortable with this plan he has? Because I'm not sure your partner would feel at ease with you basically walking into a snare. I have a strong feeling Jack would object to hanging back as Oversight has instructed me to do."

"Although not exactly tactically sound on the surface, James has a point in what he's doing. These men need us. They won't think twice about eliminating anyone else." Mac leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, mirroring Carlos's position. He knew Jack would have balked at the directive. In fact, after what happened when they'd separated in Mexico and Mac had gone with his father, he doubted his partner would ever trust Mac to the man's care again. But Mac couldn't-wouldn't-risk Carlos's life in such a manner. "I know it appears we're giving them what they want, but we're also laying a trap of our own. Besides bringing a team into a situation like this without knowing how many men we're possibly facing or where Jack is being held is too risky. We know from past dealings with Gomez that his compounds are always strategically impenetrable from a militaristic stance. A direct assault isn't the way to go and they took Jack for an exchange."

"Director Weber mentioned another name besides Gomez. Who is Jonah Walsh and what exactly does he want in exchange for Jack?"

Mac rubbed a hand over his face. Sweat had found its way past the bandana blocker to trail into his eyes and he blinked a few times before answering the perfectly fair question. "Walsh was my father's partner. They worked as a team for Phoenix, doing sort of what Jack and I do now, at least what we did until I took my leave."

"So this is personal? And the reason Jack was taken?" Carlos straightened when an alligator surfaced fairly close to their boat, possibly the one Mac had seen slither from the bank earlier.

"Do you always ask this many questions when on a mission, brother?" Mac quirked a brow. "No wonder you didn't make Delta. Even _I_ knew to do what I was told and to keep my mouth shut."

"I doubt that." Carlos countered with confidence. "Jack has told me some stories about your work with him and his team in Afghanistan, and this is not a Delta operation, although it sounds like it might be right up their alley considering the cartel's tie in."

"Walsh wants something only my father can give him," Mac finally said with a sigh. The urgency he felt deep inside of him was back, closer to the surface now, adrenaline coursing through him, making him itch from inaction. "He more than likely thought by taking Jack he'd have a bargaining chip."

"Your father doesn't exactly strike me as the bargaining type." Carlos watched the water, edging a little closer to the middle of the boat.

"That's why Walsh chose Jack, because he thinks I might be different from my dad and would have convinced him otherwise." Mac kept his eyes peeled for the gator. He had learned from Jack that they liked marshmallows. His partner had confessed to feeding them in the swamps during his time in New Orleans. Jack had even trained a few of the smaller ones to climb onto the dock to fetch there nightly treat. Mac imagined from the way Carlos kept inching away from the side of the boat, that he would not be impressed with the story.

"From what little I know about your father, I'd say that is probably a very safe bet." When Mac brought his gaze from the water to narrow his eyes at Carlos, the other man shrugged. "I'm talking about the part about you two being different, not so much about you convincing him of anything as I imagine there is at least one trait you share, like stubbornness."

Mac rolled his eyes, but let the dig slide. "James has good reason for his unwillingness to deal with Walsh's demands. The drug Jonah wants could have far-sweeping consequences, none of them positive." Mac couldn't help to remember the biological agent he'd willingly handed over at Lake Como to the man holding a gun on Nikki. At the time he hadn't considered giving a weapon of mass destruction to a terrorist such a high price to pay for one life, especially when that one life was one he considered invaluable and irreplaceable.

"But Jack is family." Carlos shifted his gun, once more fruitlessly slapping at one of the many mosquitos buzzing around them.

"Exactly." Mac knew Carlos understood the position that placed him in. "I will do whatever it takes to save him, even if it means walking into what I know is a trap." There was finality in his voice.

"And your father?"

"James will do whatever he thinks is right."

"Does that mean he has a different agenda from you?" A frown was back on Carlos's face, the worried look having little to do with reptiles swimming in shared waters.

"From what little I know about my father, I'd say that is probably a safe bet." Mac used Carlos's earlier words, finding the truth of them hard to swallow, but their accuracy undeniable. He didn't trust James MacGyver, but had to use whatever his father was planning for his own advantage. Mac leaned in closer to his friend. "Our job is to get Jack out safe. No matter what my father is hoping to achieve."

"My job is to watch your back, hermano," Carlos reiterated with a determination that had Mac swallowing hard. When Mac opened his mouth to object, Carlos raised a hand to cut him off. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get Dalton out, believe me, but rescuing Jack would actually be counterintuitive on my part- sort of how suicide is counterproductive to my living- if I let something happen to you on my watch in the process. You get hurt, I'm a dead man."

An instant rebuff escaped Mac as he imagined what emoji's Jack might have used to convey such a message to Carlos. Before he could conjure any response, his father's voice called out for them to brace for impact. Mac had just enough time to grip the side of the metal rim behind him before the small boat banked hard as it ran aground to the right with enough force to send the top half of the vessel safely onto land, which had obviously been their guide's intention.

"I'll take point." Carlos stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder as he cleared the side. His earlier trepidation had seemingly vanished and he stood at the ready waiting for Mac's acknowledgment.

Mac nodded, shouldering his own pack as Carlos disappeared into the foliage. He bent to pick up the tie line before exiting the boat. His boots mired in mud as he moved to find a branch sturdy enough to secure the boat.

"That's not necessary. They won't be staying." James's voice stopped him. When Mac turned, one of the guides was standing near him, reaching out for the rope. "They've given us the coordinates we need." James held up a piece of paper, and his compass.

"Since when?" Mac frowned, allowing the man to take the tie from his hand. He watched as the guide squatted to shove the long boat back into the murky water before quickly jumping in with his partner. "I thought they were taking us to the reserve."

"Obviously they had plans of their own." James resituated his pack, glancing to his watch as if he had expected as much. "Jonah has never failed to show a peculiar resourcefulness when it comes to buying temporary allegiance. He can be charming and persuasive in other ways."

"You think he already knows we're here." Mac had hoped his worries had been unfounded, but the resolve in his father's gaze told him he had every right to think they were being watched in Cusco. His first priority was getting his partner out of harm's way but that didn't mean that his instincts weren't screaming at him that this whole mission was about to go FUBAR quickly.

"I think he knew the minute our flight landed," James said calmly. It was the very same tone that had Mac's blood boiling.

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose, blowing out a huff of breath. "We figured as much."

"You having second thoughts about our ploy?" Oversight asked and if Mac hadn't known better he thought he saw an excited gleam in father's dark eyes, much like when they'd stolen the horses in Mexico to circumvent Gomez's security measures. The man had always loved games of strategy just a little too much, and this was obviously a challenge.

Mac refused to take the bait. "The only thing I'm thinking about is Jack."

He propped his hands on his hips, studying the trail Carlos had left for them, the path had been obviously overgrown and he could see where his friend had taken his machete to the worst of the snarled limbs. The noise of all the things that lived inside the jungle seemed louder than before, more dangerous.

"I wouldn't let worry distract you. I'm sure Dalton's holding his own." James started to move around Mac, heading for the overgrown path. He shrugged, adding over his shoulder, "He's former Delta, and he's been in the CIA. It's not like he's not been tortured in the past."

Mac shook his head, once more floored by his father's ability to come off as a complete jackass and for it to get under his skin so swiftly. His hands curled into fists. Only a man who had no concept of what it meant to endure grueling hours of purposeful pain inflicted by another human would spout such bureaucratic bullshit in a cavalier manner. Mac had been tortured, more than once, and it was something he would never wish on anyone, let alone the people he loved. The idea that his father thought he would somehow take comfort in the fact that Jack would endure as if all the other times he'd been made to suffer had been some sort of conditioning or training exercise, had him once more vacillating between being disgusted by the man and feeling completely sorry for him and his lack of empathy.

"I mean Dalton's been in worse situations, son." James continued on, swatting away a branch as he proceeded forward unaware of his son's stunned stupor. His words came out matter-of-factly, almost indifferently. He chanced a glance over his shoulder when Mac didn't follow, still seemingly not taking any cue from the look of incredulity on Mac's face. "Don't get me wrong, I know spending time with Jonah has probably been no picnic, but your partner has been through worse. Iraq for instance. I wasn't sure he'd come out of that one but he did."

"You knew about Iraq?" Mac reached out and gripped his father's arm, stopping him from starting forward once more.

For a moment James looked uncertain as if he'd said too much, but then his face set in grim lines. "You know I've read your files from Afghanistan. Your partner has always been brash when it comes to making deals. He's one to rush in before considering the consequences."

Mac blinked, feeling a bit like his father had slapped him. Dismay warred with feeling incredibly foolish, as Mac once more grappled with the fact he'd spent a year of his life searching desperately for his father, a man who seemed had no limits to the ways he could disappoint his son. "Jack was willing to pay with his life, Dad, so I could get out of Afghanistan in one piece. You understand that, right? I was _nothing_ to him and he was still willing to go through hell and back, die even, if it meant taking care of me."

"He _would_ have died if I hadn't gotten word to you and his buddy Boxer that he was being held in Iraq. Hammond wasn't being kept in the loop. Dalton's own team didn't know he was in jeopardy. If my sources hadn't delivered that bit of intel then I dare say we wouldn't be having this very ill-timed, unproductive conversation." James folded his arms over his chest, looking pleased with himself albeit a bit irritated as well.

Mac opened his mouth to respond, but the memory of the message he'd received about Jack's disappearance kept him from speaking. He'd never known who'd sent Jack's St. Jude medal to Boxer, but it was what had led them to suspect that Jack's temporary assignment to another unit had been a convenient cover for some ultra-secretive op, one that had quickly gone sideways.

"Is everything okay?" Carlos reappeared at the head of the trail before Mac could let out the breath he was holding. The former Ranger's shirt was already soaked through with sweat and he was panting from exertion. He batted at more giant mosquitos as his gaze volleyed between James and Mac, his line of sight finally settling on the dark water just beyond them. His brow furrowed. "What happened to the guides? And our ride?"

"Change in plans," Mac told him, with a brief glance. He raked both hands through his hair. There would be time later to process the actual levels of his father's involvement in his past. Right now Jack was the only thing that mattered. "Nothing new."

"Okay." Carlos slid the machete into a sheaf at his side, bringing his rifle to settle against his chest. "So is this where I get my first taste of dual MacGyver improvising? That should be interesting, and just so we're clear by interesting I mean scary as hell."

"That depends on whether my son is done rehashing the past." James narrowed his gaze at Mac. "I'm sure Dalton doesn't mind waiting with Jonah while you continue counting the ways I have royally failed at being a parent. In fact, knowing your partner he'd probably encourage me to indulge you, let you get it all out of your system so you feel better. What's another hour in the grand scheme of things if it means Angus gets his way?"

If James's goal was to kick Mac's anger into overdrive, then he'd succeeded brilliantly. It seemed the years of not being around had not left Mac's father without knowledge of his soft spots. Mac barely bit back on the words he wanted to let loose, starting with a suggestion Jack would have no doubt given a double thumbs up to. Mac would have even added an 'Oversight, sir' to the end of the anatomically impossible command just to show his father who he truly took after. As it was, he held back, afraid if he ever let himself take such liberty, words, no matter how foul, would not be enough. Since they didn't have time for a fight, Mac grabbed the coordinates from his father's hand and shouldered past the older man.

Jack needed him. Now.

Nothing, not even the all too real need to knock his father on his pompous ass was going to stop Mac from being there.

RcJ

" _We like to think we have some control over who our children will grow into, simply by the way we raise them. But the truth is, we don't know which traits will emerge or be discarded until our kids are living stories, unfolding before our eyes." –Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_

Jack Dalton, swore under his breath, spitting a mouthful of blood after his head snapped back against the rock wall where he was currently chained. He managed a sneer. "Damned if that wasn't a bit better, Walsh. Not quite manly, but not exactly teenage girl either. You're getting there."

The bucket of cold water that the observation earned him might have been refreshing if it hadn't stunk to high heaven of something like rotting leaves and the stuff Jack used to muck out of the milk barn at old man Levi's farm when he worked odd jobs there as a kid. Jack gagged, spit again.

He hoped to hell he hadn't swallowed any of the bacteria infested sludge being slung at him. A bout of intestinal distress was all he needed to aggravate the broken ribs he was certain to now be sporting thanks to standing in as a side of meat during Jonah's impressive display of boxing prowess. The man had a hell of a jab, but damned if Jack was going to tell him that. Instead, he gave another bloody grin.

"Hey, I know you could use the practice, but haven't you had just about enough of a workout today, Rocky? You're getting a little old to be pushing it." Talking and keeping his breathing to a shallow pant wasn't easy but Jack kept the shit-eating smirk in place just to piss off his tormentor.

Jonah rubbed his fist. "Funny, Dalton, but hurting you doesn't feel like work at all. In fact, it's invigorating."

"You're not the first to take some pleasure in it." Jack had definitely been worked over by worse, by men who wanted to break him. Walsh just seemed to be putting him through the paces. Interrogation tactics 101, only without any questions. For all Jack knew the man was bored, and despite what he said didn't seem to be enjoying it so much.

"I can imagine you have that effect on people." Jonah laughed, flexing his fingers.

Jack looked at him through his one eye that wasn't swollen shut. "Not really much sport in how you're doing it though, seeing as how my hands are chained over my head and my feet are secured. I didn't figure you for the lily-livered sort, but this sure ain't sparring." Jack needed to take a quick breath, his ribs protesting, his vision blurring at the edges as gray seeped in. "You're not one of those sorry bastards who shoot bears while they're hibernating, are you? Or worse uses a semi-automatic to take out some gentle giant like a giraffe or panda?"

"I should have figured you for a conservationist, Dalton." Jonah took the bucket he'd used to douse Jack and flipped it over so he could sit on top of it. Jack couldn't stop the breath of relief that escaped him as it seemed the hitting would temporarily be halted. Walsh shook his head. "All that time working with Mini Mac has made you soft. Shit, you're practically a democrat."

"Now that hurt." Jack grunted, trying to shift his weight a little into a less aggravating position. "Maybe you should stick to your trash talking game instead of trying to get your point across physically. By the way, what was your point?"

"Pain." Jonah scratched his beard, looking like he actually thought about the question. "Just pain."

"Right, payback for Gomez." Jack nodded, hoping like hell he would just pass out. Unfortunately, despite what he taunted, Walsh knew exactly what he was doing. The man inflicted just enough damage to ensure suffering but not so much to render his victim unconscious. Jack was just as well-versed in the skill, thanks to the CIA and his time in Delta. He supposed he should be thankful Walsh hadn't stripped him naked, put him in a box, or gone with waterboarding.

"You could have at least asked me some damn questions to make it more interesting, dude, kept my attention. I'm practically falling asleep here. Like you could have demanded the name of my first girlfriend, or who I voted for in the last presidential election."

Jonah sighed. "Do you ever shut up?"

"Mac says I have a condition." Jack shifted his shackled hands, the metal clinking slightly. He knew talking was his way of dealing with the pain. Every soldier had their own way to cope, because if you didn't deal with it, the pain dealt with you. Boxer ran football plays in his head, not just any plays, but the Cowboys plays, starting in the sixties before he was even born. Mac performed theoretical experiments in his ginormous brain or calculated complicated algorithyms that would defy the brightest thinkers of his generation. In Cairo, Jack had teased his partner that it would be a hoot if he actually figured out time travel and brought Jack back Doctor Who style so he could take their captives out in most painful ways before they had a chance to lay one finger on them. Jack glanced at the door just off to Jonah's left, thoughts of Cairo bringing on an exhaustion that had him sagging against his chains, dark dots dancing before his eyes.

"You definitely have a talent for getting under a man's skin." Jonah looked indifferent, though the hint of an unnerved frown appeared on his brow.

"You could always hit the showers? Don't let me keep you." Jack blinked, giving the other man another albeit weaker grin.

"Maybe later." Jonah stood, and Jack couldn't quite stop the flinch when Walsh moved towards him. The big man didn't strike Jack, but instead placed a hand against the wall, leaning close. "Right now I have to get my men ready for a bugout. We're Oscar Mike soon."

"Oh, good, you're leaving." If Jack could have mustered the energy he'd have reared back and slammed his forehead against the smug bastard's nose, but Jonah was also smart enough to stay just out of his reach. "Can't say I'm going to miss your ugly face. Walsh."

"No worries, brother. You're coming, too." Jonah roughly patted Jack's bloodied and bruised face. "Wouldn't want to disappoint baby boy. I mean your partner's come all the way to Peru to save you."

"Peru? That's where we are?" Jack had known it was humid as hell. He forced a laugh, working hard not to let fear show on his face. From the way his heart thudded against his chest he was almost afraid Jonah would hear it. Thoughts of a rescue warred with the awareness that Mac had just put himself in harm's way. Jack licked his busted lip, the movement stinging. "I wouldn't count on MacGyver not getting distracted. That damn kid loves Machu Picchu and any other archaeological find old Doctor Jones would explore. Then there's the rain forest itself. Hell, he's liable to be tagging howler monkeys, or milking an anaconda for some potentially cancer curing venom."

"We both know the only thing little Angus is here to collect is you, big fella." Jonah rammed his fist into Jack's stomach, before taking a step away. "I'll admit I was a little surprised when he showed so quickly. Hell, I wasn't sure he'd come at all, considering he dumped your ass and ran off to Puerto Rico to build houses when his daddy finally came out of hiding."

Jack tried desperately to recapture the breath that had been driven from him. He'd just managed a slight inhale when Jonah stopped his tight pacing, to stand firmly in front of him. Even with his vision swimming, Jack could tell the bastard was gloating. The man's words had held a punch of their own, and Jack was pretty sure by the new gleam in Jonah's eyes that his face had showed as much.

"That was a ball buster, right? I mean the kid and you have been through hell and back and you've always been right there. Like a faithful dog. I mean surely you knew it would have happened sooner or later anyway. Best big brother or not, the kid's a MacGyver." Jonah reached out and slapped Jack's cheek again, lightly at first, but then hard enough to sting. "I mean, take it from someone who knows. Guys like us aren't exactly the promoting kind and there's not much call for overwatch when your partner's sitting behind the big desk and smoozing with the brass. But that's the MacGyver MO, man. They only need you until they don't. And then they're quick to move on. Be glad you only wasted eight years of your life nursing that scrawny runt instead of the thirteen I squandered with Jimmy."

"So we're back to James breaking up with you?" Jack refused to let Walsh's prodding goad him into the reaction the other man was so obviously hoping for. He'd be lying if he said he didn't have some worries about Mac quitting Phoenix and taking off, maybe even some doubts about what he thought was their unshakable partnership and where he now stood with the kid, but he'd be damned if he let Walsh get his jollies off on his lame insecurities. Instead he managed to roll his one good eye, shaking his head, although it set off a new round of pain. "Damn, that must have been a hell of a blow off. You really are a twelve year old girl."

"You know," Jonah moved closer, his grim features hardening. "If your boy wasn't so hell bent on saving you, he might have taken a moment to wonder why his daddy was willingly putting himself in the same situation he was in while in Mexico. I mean, the man's a lot of things, but James MacGyver is nobody's fool. He has to know that I know that _he_ knows this is a trap. Loyalty's not exactly his strong suit either. So that means he's undoubtedly got a whole other agenda on the table for coming here and it sure as hell ain't rescuing you or placating that kid of his." Jonah tapped his forehead. "When he's focused like that, wrapped up in his big old brain, he doesn't see anyone else and people tend to get hurt. Your little brother's not going to be immune to the fallout, Dalton. I mean I for one, won't look a gift horse in the mouth, because I can't wait to get my hands on the brat after the mess he made of my operation, but I imagine you don't feel the same especially now that you know all this with you was just a warm up for me."

Jack realized Jonah was switching tactics, using a whole other different insecurity against him. A much more effective one. The one where Jack failed in his job to keep Angus safe, and as much as Jack didn't want to believe anything would come between him and Mac, he took the kid's safety much more personally than his own worries about being replaced or no longer needed. He tried to rationalize that Walsh was depending on Mac for the serum and wouldn't hurt him, at least not until he had what he wanted. That would give Jack time to get his partner out of there. But the kind of fear that Walsh's gleeful leer set free wasn't something to be rationalized with. Much like a tiger freed from a cage, it couldn't be cajoled into returning to it's prison once it was set loose on it's captor.

"So cat finally got your tongue?" Jonah sneered and Jack wondered if the man had somehow been privy to his private metaphor. "I sure do wish the key to controlling James was so clear cut, but you see, I'm not sure he's going to be as cooperative and fun to torment as you might. I mean I put a gun to his boy's head right in front of him, finger poised at the trigger, and he didn't so much as flinch. He knows I don't play. I'm not sure what to make of a father who shows no fear in the face of losing his one and only son, let alone watching him have his skull tapped, so I've had to be creative this go-around."

Jack wasn't really surprised that Mac hadn't confided all the details of what went down in the lab in Mexico, but he still had to work hard at looking unfazed by Walsh's recounting of the events. It took a monumental effort not to buck his restraints in hopes of getting his hands on Jonah. Instead, he gave a dazed blink, licking his lips. The taste of copper and sweat assaulted his senses, churning his stomach. He still managed a smirk. "What I _think_ is that if _you_ believe you can outsmart either of those men, then you're dumber than I thought you were."

"Well, hell, Jack, me challenging the MacGyvers to a game of wits would be about like Mini Mac or Jimmy challenging one of us to a shooting match, although I have to tell you, James's aim isn't half bad." Jonah folded his arms over his chest, looking smug once more. "Any good soldier knows you don't pick a weapon your enemy's well-versed in using, especially on a playing field upon which he always finds victory. In fact, if you're able, it's best to choose a whole other game entirely, one he has no experience with."

"If that's your tactic, then me and old Sun Tzu would probably suggest maybe going with Fortnite, or something old school like Pictionary." Jack gave a smirk. "I'm pretty sure your buddy Oversight's not watched a movie or read a good fiction book since sometime in the early eighties."

"Damned if you're not as funny as you are irritating, Dalton." Jonah laughed. "But you see I was thinking more along the lines of Blind Man's Bluff. I don't know about your partner, but James MacGyver doesn't like surprises. In fact, for a man who prides himself on improvising, he hates not predicting what comes next. It shakes him up." Jonah moved quick, bringing his elbow up and pressing it precisely against Jack's throat.

"For instance, me killing you instead of using you as a bargaining chip." Jack thrashed as the other man leaned into the hold, increasing the pressure, effectively cutting off oxygen. Fear gave way to panic as Jack was helpless to do anything to evade or escape. "That would blow his mind."

Jack was desperate for one precious gasp of air. Through the pin pricks of light now bursting in his field of vision, he caught Jonah's deadly serious gleam, heard his growl of one last promise over the rush of blood in his ears. "Trust me, Jack, James MacGyver has no idea what's coming."

Jack's last conscious thought was that he hated like hell that Mac had left the safety of Puerto Rico and made a very long trip to Peru to rescue him for nothing. For the first time, he suddenly wished his kid had been more like his father- the biological one, not the one who liked helicopters. If there was an afterlife, Jack would make it his priority mission to come back from it and kill James MacGyver for being such an idiot as to let their boy ever come.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Nature Versus Nurture

By: Ridley

A/N: I don't usually think to put trigger warnings on my pieces as I tend to not like to write a lot of violence, or if I do, it tends to take place 'off camera'. This has a little more than typical so, I did want to give notice as I never want to be complacent about the impact of such on those that might be sensitive. As always, thank you for the amazing reviews, thoughtful words and time you take to reach out to me. Props to Mary, who did a lot of this editing from her vacation. This chapter is brought to you from Paris. And not the one in Texas! Enjoy.

RcJ

" _A father's abandonment can imprint itself on you, shaping how you see the world and every decision you make." –Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_

"I'm no expert but this doesn't look like a wildlife refuge." Carlos knelt in the mud close to Mac, who was peering through the binoculars he'd brought. Even from the slight ridge, Mac had to agree with his friend. Past the thick branches surrounding them the compound lay in ruin in the slight dip of an emerald valley beyond.

"I wasn't expecting to find endangered animals." Mac frowned as he studied the crude structures below, none of which looked capable of containing a working lab.

Carlos huffed. "I know, but this place doesn't look like it's been touched in years, Mac. The jungle is reclaiming it."

He was right of course. The sporadic buildings had practically been overtaken by lush voracious growth. Not even camouflage explained the lack of neglect, or the feeling that no human had walked the property in quite some time.

"These are the coordinates." Mac rechecked the paper, glancing to where his father squatted with his own binoculars. He waited for Oversight to meet his gaze. "I didn't see any sign of trip wires or explosives. Dad?"

James looked at Mac, shrugged. "That's because we wouldn't be much use to Jonah if he killed us, son."

"There could be other traps," Mac suggested.

"Or our intel is corrupt." Carlos asserted, searching the jungle around them. Mac noticed it was unnervingly quiet and when the other man's gaze returned to him, he knew his friend was thinking the same thing. "I can't shake the feeling we're being watched."

"Jonah wanted us here for a reason." James lifted his binoculars once more, then returned his gaze to his son. He nodded to the binoculars Mac was still holding. "Ignore the buildings. What else do you see?"

Mac looked past the abandoned cages, beyond the crumbling fence line as his father continued to talk. He hated that the man insisted on making everything a teachable moment, but bit his lip to resist saying as much.

James continued in his best lecturer voice, "What if Gomez didn't want this area as a location for illicit business, but for…"

"A helipad." Mac interrupted, seeing the scene spread before them in a new light. That particular rush of discovering something you hadn't known a moment before displaced the annoyance for his father. The entire area of the fake refuge was novel in the region because of the location. Hidden between mountain ranges, cloaked by the jungle setting, but clear of obstructions directly overhead. He could see it now. The refuge was overgrown, but the ground beyond the main compound was purposively covered, made to look like the rest of the jungle floor. There was more than likely a bunker, possibly even one large enough to store a chopper. "It's a pick up and drop spot."

"Uh guys, do you hear that?" Carlos was on his feet, his eyes scanning the tree tops although only slits of sky were available to them. The distinct sounds of whirring blades could be heard in the distance. Monkeys now chattered loudly at the disturbance, birds flushed, frightened calls echoing around them.

"Damn it." James swore. "This is an extraction."

"We need to go. Now." Carlos swung his gun around and at the ready.

They had only taken a few steps when four men materialized from the jungle, corralling them. Camouflaged perfectly to match their surroundings, Mac wondered if their sniper blinds were scattered about, blending seamlessly into their background. It explained why they had felt watched, and Mac cursed himself for not being more astute. He shouldn't have been surprised considering Jonah Walsh's military roots and the kind of resources the Cartel had at their disposal. Even knowing Walsh would be expecting them, it still felt like a failure, like he was somehow letting Jack down to be taken unaware so damn easily.

"Put your hands where we can see them." One of the men stepped forward. He was taller than Mac with black hair and dark eyes, a thick accent. "Drop your weapon," he barked at Carlos.

"Do as he says." James ordered calmly.

Carlos didn't appear to respond quickly enough because one of the other men stepped from behind him, slamming the butt of his rifle into Carlos's head. Mac watched his friend drop boneless to the ground unconscious. When he made a move towards the downed Ranger, a rifle aimed in his direction. His father reached out to grip the back of his shirt, effectively holding him in place.

"Stay where you are." The man who'd spoken tilted his head towards Carlos when Mac shot him a defiant glare. He lifted his gun to his shoulder. "I could always put a bullet in him. My orders were to bring you and your father. No one else."

Mac clenched his jaw, but took a step back from where Carlos lay unmoving, lifting his hands in surrender. "He's no threat to you. We'll do what you want."

"Get his gun." The man ignored Mac, addressing one of his team who bent to retrieve Carlos's weapons. He swung his gaze to James gesturing to his and Mac's packs. "Leave your things. You won't be needing them where we're going."

"Where is that exactly?" James asked as he dropped his gear, Mac following suit, knowing the first aid kid he'd brought was inside. They were turned and herded towards the trail that would take them to the rescue before Mac could utter a protest. His father's question was met with silence, but Mac sent a silent thank you to anyone who was listening that he didn't hear gunfire and considered Carlos safe, at least as safe as one could be unconscious in the Amazon Rainforest. The chopper had already landed when they made it to the refuge. Mac caught his first good glimpse of the helo as they cleared the edge of the jungle.

"Is that a RACER?" He asked his father, unable to take his eyes from the aircraft. His first thoughts were that what he was seeing wasn't quite possible. Jack had pushed for Phoenix to get its hands on one of the cutting edge rotocrafts after seeing a prototype at the Paris Air Show a few years before. His partner had gone on and on about the "box wing" and how it would reduce drag and make exfils speedier with its 250mph flight speed, almost double that of a normal chopper. He was certain Jack was thinking of anytime Mac had been injured and a rescue from exfil had not moved quickly enough to suit the former Delta. Despite Jack's hard sale, Mac's partner had received a memo from Oversight-which was comical in hindsight-stating that the helicopter was only in experimental phases and would be available to military personnel only.

"Did I not mention Jonah is extremely resourceful?" James gave him a quick look, more than likely also recalling the memo he'd returned in lieu of Jack's request. He nodded to where his former partner had just exited the chopper. "His new employer also has a more lucrative budget than Phoenix."

"Glad you could join us, Jimmy." Walsh moved to intercept them, a triumphant smile firmly in place. "And you brought mini Mac again. These family reunions are becoming a habit."

"Where's Jack?" Mac stepped ahead of his father, gesturing to Jonah's swollen nose and bruised face. "That looks like his handiwork."

"I see that like your dad you're not much one for chit chat." Jonah glanced to James. "Although I got to say, Jimmy, after spending some quality time with Dalton," Jonah waved a hand towards his face, "I think there may be some proof to that whole nurture versus nature thing."

"I really don't care what you think, Jonah." James rolled his shoulders, giving a sigh. "I'm here to collect my agent. That's what you wanted, correct?"

"I'm well aware that you have little consideration for what anyone else thinks or wants." Jonah swung his gaze to Mac. "I bet you're figuring that out the hard way, huh, baby boy? It took me a lot longer but then again I'm not genius material."

"I want to see Jack." Mac wasn't interested in being the metaphorical ping pong ball in his father's and Walsh's verbal volley. "If you've hurt him…"

"That's cute," Jonah interrupted. "Of course I hurt him, Angus. I mean somebody had to pay for that mess you and James made in Mexico. Gomez isn't the forgiving type and since your daddy was hiding in his fortress at Phoenix and you were off playing Good Samaritan..."

Mac made to move around Walsh but one of their escorts blocked his way. "Not so fast." Walsh chided, catching him hard by the arm and shoving him back to where his father still stood. "I like your gumption, but James and I have a few things to discuss before you get your partner back."

"Like what?" Mac narrowed his eyes at Walsh before his gaze moved to the helicopter once more as someone else disembarked. He'd hoped it might be Jack, but it was a woman instead.

"Sabrina?" It was Mac's father who now took a faltering step towards the RACER, ignoring the men blocking his path. He halted on his own when the newcomer in question removed a wide brim straw hat, freeing a fringe of smart silver blond hair that brushed at her angled chin. "I…I don't understand," James actually stuttered.

"Well, that's a first." Jonah laughed, nudging one of his men. "Mark this a red letter day, Cal. Something just happened that the brilliant James MacGyver doesn't understand."

James barely spared his former partner a withering glower, his transfixed gaze instantly going back to the woman. She looked to be in her mid-forties, was dressed in black riding pants that disappeared into tall boots and a crisp white shirt as if she might have wondered away from one of the more upscale resorts that catered to the wealthy and adventurous, instead of someone who should be hanging out with Jonah's hired militia.

"It's good to see you, James." Her Australian accent was faint, but still detectable. Mac was hit by a wave of dread as Sabrina moved closer and he noted familiar blue eyes, unruly brows and jutting cheekbones that hadn't been softened much by middle age. "I had rather hoped our reunion might be under less dubious circumstance, but here we are."

"Forgive my bluntness, I rather hoped our paths wouldn't cross again." He looked at Walsh. "But then I suppose that's exactly why our former teammate arranged otherwise."

"You're welcome, buddy," Jonah crowed, obviously pleased with the reaction he'd garnered from Oversight as the man had blanched, his stoic mask slipping in a way Mac had not witnessed thus far.

Mac watched the unfolding scene with more trepidation than confusion. His heart kicked up a notch. He hadn't considered that much like him and Jack, James and Walsh would have also had a support team in place. A Riley. A Bozer. A Nikki?

Jonah seemed to read Mac's thoughts as he turned to address him. "Say hello to Sabrina Green, mini Mac. You probably don't remember her either since you were just a toe-headed tyke back when your dad actually used to bring you around, but she was a colleague of mine and Jimmy's right up until she sold us out on a mission in Morraco about fifteen years ago. It was for a shitload of diamonds- not a weapon of mass destruction- but you might see the irony in the situation considering the train wreck you experienced with Agent Carpenter. At least Sabrina didn't shoot one of us."

"Not that I didn't consider it, mind you." Sabrina actually smiled at Jonah. "And, you never proved I took the diamonds. Besides if I did acquire that priceless collection by nefarious means, I can assure you they served a far better purpose than they would have sitting in any dusty museum under glass."

"Such as continuing your research?" James asked, quietly.

"That shouldn't surprise you. The love of science was always one of the things we shared."

"I don't think your passion for innovation is what provoked you to betray your friends and your country." Mac watched his father fold his arms over his chest, his face finding its typical resolve. "I'd say that had more to do with your desire for the finer things, like luxury cars and villas in Greece."

"Throughout history many innovators have been villainized for their diligence, James. It's not my fault that you and I had artistic differences. Isn't that what all the great bands say when they break up?"

"You wanted to work on the serum after I pulled the plug and shut down simulations when we realized the side effects."

"KX7 was _our_ baby,as much my creation as yours. You had no right to keep it from me like some embittered, scorned spouse."

"I bet the pieces are falling into place in that quick mind of yours now, huh, kid?" Jonah fake whispered to Mac. "You're probably hoping that KX7 was their only love child." Mac felt sick as the rogue agent bobbed his eyebrows suggestively. It was exactly what he'd been thinking. "No worries. Your daddy was still too hung up on your momma when we were the 'it' team for DXS. He was never much competition when it came to the ladies even without all the moody broody shit. Rina was married to our communications expert, Sam. They were the only ones rocking the surveillance van on our missions back in the day."

"Don't be crass, Jonah," Sabrina snapped, giving Mac an apologetic glance. "I'm sure Angus has no interest in our sordid pasts. I imagine he has other concerns, his missing partner being top of the list."

Mention of Jack had him refocusing on the important details at hand, one being that his father now looked uncertain, which did not bode well.

"I'm not helping you finish the drug." James said in his trademark matter of fact tone.

"That's alright. I'm not above using _your_ child for my own purposes. Tit for tat and all that." Sabrina's blue eyes flashed, and she twisted the rim of her hat in a tight fist, although her voice remained neutral. "I hear he's quite brilliant, well-versed in chemistry and physics, and unfortunately for him, it would seem you and I are still too much alike for our own good." She now looked at Mac. "Your father and I were constantly bumping against each other's egos. He never quite accepted that I was his equal."

"You being my equal was never an issue…" James started.

"Now, now," Jonah interrupted. "As much as I am enjoying this blast from the past and trust me I am because I'll be damned if all we're missing is Jimmy's trademark mullet for it to feel exactly like old times, I'm running on a timeline. Gomez is expecting me with the talent so we don't really have time for this tete a tete."

"Are you sure you want to run the risk of disappointing your new boss again, Jonah?" James turned to his former partner, hands on his hips. "I was afraid he'd kill you for what happened the last time and seeing as how I'm not going to be party to this and Sabrina has obviously failed to supply what you need, it looks like your setting yourself up for yet another disaster."

"Yeah, your concern for my well-being is touching, Jimmy. As usual I'm sure you lost a lot of sleep worrying about hanging my ass out to dry but I can set your mind at ease. I'm not the one who's going to pay if that drug isn't completed." Jonah glanced at Mac. "What I did to Dalton was nothing compared to what's coming, kid."

"My son won't be intimidated…"

"Don't speak for me." Mac turned on his father, the anger he felt for the man who continued to keep secrets and a generous portion of self-loathing for naively being somehow complicit in his antics mixed to steel and sharpen his tone. He coldly looked from Sabrina to Jonah. "I'm just here to get my partner back. The rest of you can go to hell."

"You were right, Jonah. I like him so much better than James." Sabrina clapped her hands together, pressing fingertips to her lips, a gleam in her eyes appeared. "This might actually be fun."

"You heard the pretty lady, Jimmy. It's going to be a riot, like old times only better because you're not running the show. You can either climb aboard the bus or find yourself under it when I shoot you here and now. Either way, we're Oscar Mike in five."

"It's not like we have a choice." Mac met his father's gaze with determination, recognizing the look of a man calculating every option, running every contingency. They hadn't expected to be moving locations. Their overwatch was compromised. It was bleak at best. Improvising at the moment, meant doing whatever it took to stay alive.

Instead of waiting for the ever obstinate Oversight to agree, he turned and moved around Jonah to make his way towards the massive helicopter of his own accord. He held his breath, praying once more he wouldn't hear gunfire behind him. He might be pissed at his dad, but he didn't want to see him hurt, or worse. Jack had warned him time and time again that father's didn't stay around forever. It was a lesson Mac didn't need because he understood all too well that those we loved could be snatched away in a breath's time. He'd learned it with his mother, his grandfather, even Nikki. Still, the siren call that lay ahead was stronger than the pull to turn around. Mac needed to see Jack.

As soon as he entered the bay area of the futuristic helo hybrid all thoughts of his father's potential demise were swallowed up by the very real possibility that he'd already lost something much more valuable.

Jack lay at the back of the chopper, a bloody mess. Mac couldn't tell if his partner was breathing. Fear, like an anvil crushed his chest, constricting his lungs and stealing his own breath. He only hoped the fact that Jonah had left two armed men on board revealed the man considered Jack still a threat, which meant that despite physical appearances to the contrary, Mac's best friend was indeed alive. Aware that the rest of Jonah's team was behind him now, he willed his legs to move, ignoring the tight knot of dread that was twisting inside his stomach. Neither of the soldiers on board made a move to stop him.

Kneeling by Jack, he tried to assess the damage. "Jack?" Mac carefully placed one hand on his partner's chest, the other he used to check for a pulse. Jack's chest rose and fell beneath his touch, a slow but strong pulse thrummed. Mac squeezed his eyes shut, took a moment to gather his wits and shove the what-ifs back into their proper compartments.

"Damn, bud. Are you dead, too?"

The familiar voice was weak and hoarse, but Mac had never heard anything sweeter. When he lifted his head, he found Jack watching him. Although one of his partner's eyes stayed a mere slit, bruised and battered at Jonah's hand, Mac could see the confusion in Jack's bleary gaze and forced a shaky smile.

"As hard as this may be to believe considering that you look like you should be ready for an HRP, you're still kicking, partner."

Jack didn't seem to immediately grasp he hadn't already been shoved in a body bag or a human remains pouch as the military liked to refer to them, but instead he continued to stare unblinking at Mac as if he wasn't sure if Mac was a ghost or a hallucination. When he spoke again, his voice was husky but full of conviction. "Damned if I'm not going to kill your daddy, Angus."

Now Mac was the one uncertain. Maybe Jack had a head injury. He moved his hand to his best friend's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze, feeling too warm skin underneath the damp, blood-stained material of the battered tee shirt. "I'm not sure you're up to the task, big guy. It looks like you went a few rounds with a half dozen UFC fighters on one of your off days."

"That explains why everything hurts." Jack looked slightly relieved. His eyes fluttered close for a moment before he forced them open once again. He gave a nod, attempting to reach his bound hands towards Mac. "I'm just so damn glad _you're_ breathing."

Mac was grateful Jonah hadn't frisked them this time. He took his SWAK from his pocket, caught Jack's wrists and freed his partner from the zip ties. Mac gripped one of Jack's hands, careful to avoid the raw skin the cruel binds had left. Relief blurring his vision as the magnitude of his choice to walk away from Phoenix hit him hard. Behind him Mac could hear his father's voice as it grew louder. A sure sign that this whole situation was quickly going from bad to worse. He kept a tight check of his emotions as he spoke, knowing that now was not the time to come unraveled even if Jack represented everything that meant safety and certainty of a haven to do so. He was a fool to think he had to run to Puerto Rico to regain his footing.

Mac swallowed hard, faced Jack. "Ditto, brother."

"Any chance you're with Phoenix?" Jack gave Mac a searching gaze, using his now free hand to try and push himself to sitting. A pained groan escaped Jack's tightly pressed lips. Mac reached out to help him, not missing the fact his best friend immediately hunched over, guarding his ribs.

"Does Oversight count?" Mac chanced a glance over his shoulder, where his father had just been escorted into the chopper by the rest of Walsh's men.

"I'd rather have Landry and a tactical team," Jack growled, his breathing coming in shallow pants.

"Then you're going to be rightfully disappointed." Mac returned his gaze to Jack's, not liking the paleness of his skin, or the cool clamminess. "Carlos was our only backup."

"He alright?" Jack shifted his weight, but didn't seem to find a more comfortable position. His breathing hitched.

"I hope so." Mac frowned, once more checking over his shoulder where James and his old team were all on board but still engaged in an argument. Mac didn't care as long as it kept them distracted. "Right now, I'm more worried about you. How bad are you hurt?"

"About the norm. Worse than Chechnya, not anywhere near Iraq." Jack shifted once again, one arm staying protectively over his ribs.

Mac shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure what it says about us that we can use horrific missions to gauge our injuries."

"I like to think of it as our version of the smiley face chart that Nurse Sally makes us use to estimate our pain level." Jack's attempt at a smile might have been effective if his lips hadn't been cracked and bruised, the corners of his mouth and chin stained with dried blood. Mac wished he had some water to offer his friend.

"Those aren't smiley faces, Jack, they're devil emojis, each a little more grotesque than the other."

"Only the one she lets you use, brother. I think she had it made special."

Mac recognized the tactic as a Dalton Diversion DefCon 1. Talk about anything and everything to keep the kid from freaking out or shutting down. He would have called his best friend on it but Jack coughed, a wet heavy sounding hack that had Mac also wishing he'd put up a fight to keep the first aid kit he'd had in his pack.

Jack groaned, doubling over slightly.

"Easy, man." Mac could feel his gut churn, his mind racing. They needed to get out of here, but how? "I've got you."

"Who's the babe?" Jack's question had Mac turning once more. He could see that Sabrina had ended her part in the discussion, moving to one of the jump seats that lined the sides of the spacious helo. Her spicy perfume carried through the air, jasmine and vanilla. She was staring at her phone, and Mac started to wonder just how he might get his hands on it.

Jack's fingers latched in the front of his shirt, giving a little tug. "There's six armed men between you and her, kid."

When Mac turned his head to frown at the other man. Jack gave a little shrug, a move that seemed to cause much more pain that it should have. "Just saying. I know you."

"Her name's Sabrina." Mac leaned closer, his voice low. That close to his partner Mac could feel the warmth radiating off of Jack, confirming his fears the other man had at least a lowgrade fever and he needed to get his hands on some water. "I'm still playing catchup but it seems James not only had a Dalton, but a Nikki as well."

"Well, damn. Don't ever let anyone tell you history don't repeat itself." Jack flashed Mac a hopeful look. "Any way she's Nikki's bizarro version in the way that the douche Jonah is my polar opposite?"

"As in you want her to be a bad guy?" Mac was once more worried about Jack's ability to think straight. The jagged wound he suspected came from the initial car wreck above his partner's eyebrow had turned spectacular shades of purple and brown, the knot beneath it visible. "How would that be helpful?"

"No, Kid," Jack sighed as if he had tried to explain a simple concept to his partner time and again. "As in I hope she's on the up and up and is maybe only undercover as a bad guy. Only you believe Nikki wears a white hat."

"Nikki is on our side, Jack." Mac frowned, sending another quick glance over his shoulder when he heard Jonah's booming voice growing louder. It appeared his and James's conversation had not gone well.

"She chose a mission over her team and let you get shot in the process. I almost lost you, bud. She will never be on my side again."

"Whatever Nikki is or was doesn't matter. Sabrina Green is _not_ one of the good guys." Mac wasn't about to go into the Nikki argument when they had enough stacked against them without butting heads over his ex. "She is however, Cage's mom. At least I think so."

"Well fuck me." Jack looked as incredulous as Mac had earlier, his dismay quickly turning to one of anger, his brows drawing together in a dark look. "Don't tell me Oversight is Cage's…"

"No." Mac shook his head, not liking the slight wheeze he could hear coming from Jack. His mind had gone there as well, only later realizing that Cage wasn't younger than him, actually a year older, and that the numbers didn't quite add up. "I don't think James and Sabrina liked each other very much."

"Neither did you and Nikki in the beginning. It didn't stop your heated debates from turning into kanoodling sessions on long stakeouts." Jack coughed again, deep and wet.

"Take my word for it. She was apparently with another member of their team." Mac realized his father had now joined Sabrina, ensconced in what looked like one of their very own heated debates. One of the soldiers had closed the bay doors, sealing their doom.

"Let me guess, their version of some bizarro Bozer who actually had game with the ladies." Jack rested his head back against the wall, looking exhausted.

"Possibly." Mac returned his gaze to his best friend, giving a slight shrug. "Maybe a male Riley?"

"Good, because you and Cage in a whole Luke and Leia situation is just more than I can think about when I'm already feeling like I could toss my cookies."

"I never even kissed Cage," Mac defended, which earned him a very familiar eye roll and knowing smirk.

Jack winced. "I gotta admit James would make a damn good Vader, though." He tilted his head towards the front of the chopper presumably to get another glance at Sabrina. "Are we in a fucking RACER?"

Mac snorted at his partner's ability to do some quick compartmentalizing of his own. "As far as I can tell. It might be some sort of prototype from the one we saw in Paris a while back." Mac answered, wondering if Airbus had recently been victims of a cyberattack they weren't aware of.

"Damned if assholes like Jonah don't get all the cool toys." Jack shifted, sitting up straighter, his gaze still focused over Mac's shoulder where Mac heard the asshole in question yell for the pilot to get the whirleybird in the air.

"Did I hear my name?" Jonah made his way away from the group as Mac felt the rumble of the engine kick in, the state of the art chopper start it's smooth vertical ascent. The noise level was nothing like a traditional chopper, the twin propellers much quieter than a traditional rotary.

"Oh, I have some names for you alright." Jack tried to make it to his knees but Mac stopped him without little effort, which was worrisome. "None of them graced your ugly momma's lips."

Jonah sent a mock hurt look Jack's way. "And here I thought we had such a great time together, Jack." He rested one big meaty hand on Mac's shoulder, squeezing to a point where it hurt. "Before you officially join the party, baby boy, I'm going to have to take possession of your cute little pocket knife."

"Be my guest." Mac wasn't sure what possessed him in that moment. Even though he heard his grandfather's voice from the past promising that the SWAK could get Mac out of any situation he found himself in. Good old rage, and not sentiment was the main motivator for what came next. Retribution for Jack's suffering was also a great instigator. Mac's typical, reasonable rationale was for certain not to blame, as Mac knew logically he was in no way aiding their case. Instead, most likely making things much worse.

It was almost as if he watched the whole scene from outside his body as he pivoted, releasing his hold on Jack, knocking Walsh's vice-like grip from his shoulder. The spin put him eye level with Jonah's tree stump of a leg and in one clean move Mac lifted his arm and drove the still open blade of his SWAK deep into the flesh of Jonah's thigh with every bit of might he could put behind it, leaving it buried to the hilt in muscle and sinew.

Jonah let loose an animalistic scream, his eyes bulging as he gripped his leg in agonized surprise. Mac knew exactly how much the injury hurt, remembering his own similar self-inflicted stab wound when he was exposed to nerve gas. He'd been expecting the pain then, and hoped the surprise attack made it ten times worse for Walsh.

"You little sonofabitch." Jonah seethed through clinched teeth as he hopped on one foot, his face coloring a bright red. He gripped the knife and jerked it free from his leg.

Mac didn't give him time to recover before he leaped to his feet and got in one vicious right jab to the bastard's broken nose, which if nothing else had the big man staggering back, releasing his hold on the weapon as he brought his hands to his face. The SWAK clattered to the floor of the chopper at Jonah's feet. The crunch of cartilage and drawing blood not once, but twice, was almost worth the payback Mac knew would be coming.

"Mac!" He barely heard Jack calling his name. His survival instincts efficiently overrode all other thought systems. Mac felt his heart pounding, every nerve ending thrumming with energy.

"You're dead!" Jonah roared like a grizzly. He hadn't gone down with the punch, but unfortunately for Mac seemed revved by the attack. Walsh brushed a hand under his nose to wipe the blood away. Mac was somewhat cognizant of the scuffle behind him as two of Walsh's men moved quickly to restrain Jack, while the others stayed near James, who had stood along with Sabrina.

Mac's reflexes were sure, his footing certain as muscle memory took over. Jonah might expect an easy target but he'd be wrong. Mac had been scrappy before years of training with Jack Dalton. He'd had to learn to hold his own as a scrawny, nerdy kid and later in the Army, although outright offensive and violent maneuvers weren't typically in his nature. Mac usually preferred to outsmart his enemy, but he had been so pissed for so long, he almost relished the opportunity to lash out physically with all he had against an opponent that he probably stood no hopes of besting, let along fatally injuring. But still it felt almost like a relief, a levee broken. Although to get them out of the chopper at that moment and on the ground before it was too late for Jack to have any chance at medical help, Mac just might have been brought to finishing Walsh, especially after he'd had his fun hurting his best friend.

Mac figured the fight would not come to that kind of ethical dilemma for him. Jonah seemed in his element, even with the injuries and in the swaying motion of the now air born helo. He towered over Mac by a good six inches and outweighed him by seventy pounds of muscle, not to mention the fact he was built for hand to hand combat and had murder in his eyes. Jonah Walsh was a beast, and if Mac hadn't known better he'd have sworn the man had already been shooting up with KX7.

The helo swayed in a sudden air pocket, which gave Mac another opportunity to land a hit, though the upper cut Mac buried in the man's gut felt like he was hitting a cement wall and he wondered if it actually hurt his fist more than it had Jonah. Changing tactics, Mac lashed out at the leg he'd injured, kicking Jonah above the knee where blood soaked the rogue agent's pants just before a blinding blow caught him at the temple.

Mac saw stars. He'd often wondered what fighting Jack would have been like if his partner had put his whole heart into sparring, not holding back like Mac was sure he always did- and now he knew. The power behind Walsh's fist drove him back to his knees, where Mac struggled not to fall over. He knew if Walsh got him down, it was over. Over the ringing in his ears Mac could hear raised voices, over the rotor noise, the continuing sounds of a scuffle. He once more took advantage of his position to attempt a very below the belt shot he only hoped would at least stun his opponent.

Walsh saw the dirty move coming, blocking the well-aimed fist before it connected with his groin. He lashed out with his own kick that had Mac quite certain he felt a rib or two give way. A murderous grin lit Walsh's face.

"Jonah, that's enough." A woman's voice echoed from somewhere and Mac had a flash of Cage, the way her pitch changed when she was angry or frightened-which in all fairness he hadn't witnessed very often. He briefly wondered if Samantha would have remained as calm as Sabrina seemed to be in the face of Mac being beaten to death.

Mac shook his head, his thoughts started to drift which certainly wasn't a good sign. He attempted to regain his footing, albeit a bit too slow for Walsh was on to him once more his meaty fist finding its mark. When Mac's head connected again with the unforgiving floor he caught a brief flash of the lush green canopy of the jungle they were currently crossing as the chopper banked. Thoughts of Carlos covered by tarantulas floated through his mind…

"I will kill you Walsh! I will tear your fucking heart out through your throat!"

Mac was jarringly brought back to the moment by Jack's shouts. He might have rolled his eyes at his partner's impossible threats if he hadn't heard the deadly certainty in Jack's tone. He also detected the older man's real panic, knowing Jack understood just what kind of danger Mac had put himself in and would do anything to try and prevent the inevitable. In all honesty Mac desperately hoped Jack might somehow defy the impossibility of escaping three heavily armed soldiers to come to his rescue. He felt ever bit the scrawny kid who'd picked a fight with the schoolyard bully twice his size and now wished for his super hero of a big brother to magically appear and save him.

Adrenaline was amazing but only as long as it lasted and Mac was starting to feel some real pain through his protective haze of fury, along with a good bit of his own fear. Impulse actions most definitely had their negative consequences. His blurring eyes roamed his surroundings in hopes of finding something he could use to get out from under Walsh but there was nothing. His gaze brushed the helo's windows again. Some rays of sun had escaped the gray wall of clouds now that they had gained altitude.

"If you hurt him too badly, you'll never get what you want, Jonah." Good old James chimed in but by this time, Mac was struggling to remain conscious, let alone focus on conversation or wonder at his father's calm input. Blood was rushing in his ears, his vision graying. Walsh had him down, his fists somehow connecting with what felt like every inch of Mac's torso all at once, like some rapid fire Rock'Em Sock'Em Robot from the kid's game he and Bozer used to play when they were boys. "You'll have failed at your objective, just like I predicted you would."

James's MacGyver's words didn't make complete sense to Mac, but he detected the ring of smug certainty. More importantly they momentarily stopped the blows raining down on him and for that he could have wept in gratitude. He panted, blinking hard, looking up at Jonah who though still straddling him was staring towards the front of the plane.

"I'll need him in the lab, Jonah. Be sensible." Sabrina's melodious voice chimed in once more. "Especially if James proves to be his obstinate self. If the boy is concussed or bleeding internally it will hinder our progress."

"Get off him!" Jack snarled and even though Mac knew his sworn protector was currently of little threat he couldn't help but to wonder if the venom in Jack's voice alone wasn't what actually prompted Jonah to finally come back to his senses and let Mac go.

Mac didn't particularly care about the reason, rolling to his side and pushing himself up on shaking arms and legs as soon as the other man's bulk was no longer holding him. When he rolled over searching for his partner, he was surprised to see he wasn't the only one climbing to their feet. One of Jonah's men was staggering. Another down and barely stirring.

"I'm not finished with you, brat." Jonah pointed a finger at Mac as he bent to scoop up Mac's bloody SWAK. He moved to where a still struggling Jack was being held upright by two of the remaining six man team.

"You still having fun, Walsh?" Jack taunted, a cocky grin on his face. He fought to straighten to his full height, still trying to shake off the two soldiers who were restraining him.

Jonah flipped Mac's knife in the air, catching it by the handle before driving it straight into Jack's shoulder. "I'm having a blast, Dalton!"

"Jack!" Mac stumbled for his partner, ignoring all the aches and pains that were starting to scream at him, just as one of the soldiers caught him from behind. He fought like mad as Jonah twisted the knife with a grin and Jack's cry echoed above the engines which had picked up. They continued to gain in altitude, completely breaking the thick layer of clouds and sunlight filled the inside of the helicopter, putting an even more surreal twist to this whole situation.

"Stand down, Angus!" James ordered sharply and Mac was shocked enough at the outburst that he ceased struggling though his gaze stayed on Jack's pale face. "You're not helping anyone."

Jonah pulled the knife out, eliciting another pained growl from Jack. He wiped the blade on his sleeve, and Mac only released his breath when the SWAK was closed and slipped into Jonah's pocket. "The party is just getting started, brother."

"You might want to clean up a bit then," Jack smirked. "Your nose is on the wrong side of your face."

Mac squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as Jack's insane need to have the last word earned his partner another blow to his side. The soldiers seemed to be the only thing keeping Jack on his feet because as soon as they released him, he dropped to his knees. Mac scrambled to his side before he could face plant.

"Thanks to your little stunt, I want those back on him." Jonah tossed a ziptie at Mac. "If you don't do it, I will and trust me you don't want me coming back over here, kid."

Mac stayed silent, one hand on Jack's chest to support his swaying form until Walsh limped away. He distantly heard Jonah snap a few orders, then Sabrina's delighted voice as she commented once more on how Mac was apparently a pleasant surprise.

"What the hell were you thinking, bud?" Jack growled, reclaiming Mac's full attention when he reached out and gripped the back of Mac's neck, tilting his head up so he could get a better look at Mac's face. Jack's fingers were hot as the older man gave the younger a slight shake, willing the kid to look at him. Jack's breathing was fast and shallow, the wheezing more prominent now and when Mac finally met his gaze, his partner's dark eyes were shot through with silent suffering, his pupils vast. Mac's chest ached with more than physical pain as the hot knife of guilt stabbed through him. He'd definitely made things worse for his partner. Mac swallowed hard, trying to coax his voice to work.

"I wasn't thinking." For once, Angus MacGyver had not been using his head.

"I don't know if I should be proud as hell or pissed to almighty." Jack sighed, giving another squeeze to Mac's neck that managed to somehow hold the kid's panic at bay. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Jack had to stop to take a breath, hunching over slightly more. His worried frown deepened when Mac didn't answer right away. "That bastard rung your clock good, brother. He has a damn swing like a sledgehammer." Jack's voice dipped, his forehead inching closer to Mac's. "He could have killed you."

"I'm okay." It wasn't true but they had other things to worry about. "I'm fine."

"How bad?" Jack wasn't willing to play along. When Mac tugged away, Jack let him but his gaze roved over Mac's face, scanning every inch of him like a momma dog who'd just reclaimed her nursing puppy from untrustworthy hands. The helo hit another air pocket, the sudden movement prompting Jack to suddenly sit down with an unsuppressed groan, though his eyes stayed locked on Mac waiting for an answer.

"Nowhere near Lake Come, like five devil emojis at the worst," Mac tried, hoping to ease the older man's concern, bring some of their typical levity. When Jack didn't even smile, Mac wiped at his mouth, the spot where his partner's gaze lingered pensively as if he were cataloging ever injury Jonah had inflicted. Mac figured the damage looked worse than it was, though his entire face pulsed with pain and he was sure at least one or two ribs were bruised or cracked. He could feel the tug of another gash pulling beneath his eye, throbbing white hot along his cheek bone even before Jack's too warm fingers gently brushed over it, his best friend giving another pained sigh as if it were somehow his fault, as if he had punched Mac instead of Jonah.

"I guess it could have been worse, brother." Jack wiped Mac's blood on his jeans, leaning heavily back against the wall, where his hand finally went to his own wound. His eyes fluttered close for a second, weariness and pain obvious on his face.

Mac ducked his head, ripping a piece from the bottom of his shirt. He wasn't worried about himself, though his body was feeling the full effect of tangling with Jonah now that adrenaline reserves had abandoned him. Mac was intent on using the cloth to stop Jack's shoulder from bleeding. Blood loss was the last thing his partner needed to contend with, compounding all the other injuries he was hiding. He let the loud voices and helicopter noises behind him fade away, so that it seemed that the only two people present were he and Jack.

"I'm sorry," he choked out as he moved to press the make-shift bandage against his partner's shoulder. As mind reeling as being held hostage by rogue former DXS agents was, Mac found himself suddenly more clear headed than he'd been since Mexico. Maybe Jonah really had knocked some sense into him, or maybe the thought of losing Jack had pierced the mental fog discovering his father right under his nose had caused.

"Not your fault, bud." Jack winced as Mac applied pressure, but did nothing to evade the move or the close proximity they were in yet again, which worried Mac even more. "No matter what happens, Angus, none of this is your fault."

The familiar words from their run in with The Ghost had Mac's eyes stinging, Pena's burnt corpse floating through his thoughts unbidden. He swallowed hard, bit his lip. When the pain didn't ground him, he let the smell of sweat and copper filter into his senses. Mac chanced a quick glance to Jack, trying not to panic when he realized the other man had his eyes closed tightly, his breathing coming in controlled shallow pants. "I meant for Puerto Rico, Jack. For running off like I did and not talking to you. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, kiddo." Jack opened his one good eye, his mouth twitching. "Like I said, not your fault."

Mac was about to argue otherwise when a first aid box was dropped at his side, the unexpected bang causing him and Jack to jump. He looked up to find his father, hands propped on his hips, frowning down at him.

"What the hell were you thinking, Angus?"

The words were almost identical to Jack's question, but sounded completely different coming from the man towering above him. Concern was superseded with indignation. Affectionate exasperation missing, disdain and disapproval in its place. He didn't bother with an explanation, instead snatching the first aid box and hurriedly searching its contents for a better, cleaner bandage, hopefully some anticeptic.

"Back off, Ward Cleaver," Jack warned with almost the same vitriol he'd used with Jonah.

James took a knee beside them, hissing. "Watch the tone, Agent Dalton."

"Seriously?" Jack laughed humorlessly. Mac glanced up in time to see his partner's hand grip his side as he couldn't quite hold back the gasp of pain. "I was minding my own damn business when I was kidnapped by your former BFF so I could take a beating you apparently earned and to be some kind of bait in his messed up plan to get his hands on a drug you created, you sanctimonious ass." Jack had to stop to catch his breath, using the time to push himself more upright, his gaze icy. "And if that doesn't earn me the right to talk to you however I fucking please, the fact I'm no longer in your employment should free me from courting your favor, _James_."

"Actually you still work for me, so I'd prefer, Sir." James looked from Jack to Mac as if no other points Jack had attempted to make even registered. "You both are back in my employment. Keep it up and there will be an official reprimand in your files."

"What?" Mac wasn't sure if Jack was talking to him or Oversight, but he rushed to explain.

"This needed to be a legitimate Phoenix mission," Mac muttered as he tore open a package of gauze and carefully exchanged it for his ruined piece of t-shirt. He met Jack's questioning gaze, silently willing his partner to understand what he'd done, committing them both back to Oversight's service. He wasn't sure if the look of hurt that flashed on Jack's face was due to feeling betrayed or from the pain Mac's treatment was causing. He sighed. "Matty and Bozer are on the ground in Cusco. Landry and your tactical boys are there, too. We needed a jet and a chopper, neither of which I could conjure on my own." Mac swallowed. "I had to save you."

"You blackmailed your own son." Jack's anger was palpable, but clearly focused solely on James as he swung his gaze to study the man's face with a good bit of incredulity and disbelief. "You used me to do it?"

"I encouraged him to see the error of his ways, to rectify his impulsive action." James snapped, churlishly. A deep frown appeared on his forehead. "You'd rather I encourage his childish spontaneity and reckless side as you seem to do, because if not for me interceding just now such behavior would have likely gotten him maimed if not killed right in front of us. Is that what you want?"

"I'd _rather_ you have left him in Puerto Rico where he was safe, you sonofabitch," Jack growled through clenched teeth, the hand that supported his weight on the floor curled into a first. "I _want_ you to act like his father not his boss, but so much for me getting a say in the matter."

"Jack," Mac breathed, blinking when the sun that suddenly came through all the windows blinded him.

His partner looked at him, his gaze furious but instantly cooling when it locked with Mac's. He relaxed back against the wall. "Fine, whatever, Sir. If it gets us out of this mess, yay, Team Phoenix."

"I'm not sure we're going to get out of this mess," James said, something close to concern flickering on his face briefly as he looked at Mac once more. "This unexpected trip wasn't part of the plan. We were prepared to be held at the refuge."

"Then I guess it is a good thing the improvising gene is strong in your family," Jack joked, but hissed in pain when Mac started to wind tape around the pad to hold it in place on Jack's shoulder.

"Sorry," Mac apologized, but continued his task.

"Improvisation isn't something one inherits through DNA, Dalton," James clarified straightly. "It's a skill that's taught, learned through modeling and shaping."

"Like a wicked right cross and a mean left jab." Jack glanced at Mac, a hint of pride easily read in his eyes, at least the one not swollen shut. Mac felt the insane desire to grin.

"Let's hope my influence works out better for us in the long run." James's obvious displeasure snuffed out any levity and lightness Jack might have breathed life into. "I overheard Jonah discussing his flight plan. We're headed to Choquequirao."

"Is that bad?" Jack asked, arching a brow at Mac. Mac picked up the zip tie and regretfully slid it over one of Jack's bruised wrists as he tried to focus on recalling the files Riley had sent him on Peru, instead of the pain he was about to inflict on his best friend. "Another of your Indiana Jones haunted places like Valley of the Sun, bud?"

"It's an archeological find, architecturally similar to Machu Picchu, overlooking the Apurimac River." Mac held back on pointing out that The Valley of the Sun was _not_ inhabited by evil spirits as he finished sliding the ziptie over Jack's other hand and tried to pull it sufficiently to Walsh's suiting without adding further damage. Jack stayed still but Mac still caught the catch in his breath as his raw skin was assaulted by the band. Mac clenched his fists against another surge of anger that had him wishing he'd done real damage with his knife instead of merely poking the proverbial tiger. He drew back, hoping not to show how much the action punished his throbbing ribs or outright reflecting how following Jonah's order flayed him. He took a careful breath, meeting Jack's gaze. "But I'm guessing my father's referring to the fact that Luis Gomez was a large investor in the recent excavation that caused a cave in at one of the main temples in the hard to reach northern portion of the site."

"The supposed accident cost several people their lives," James explained, glancing over his shoulder. Mac followed his line of site. Sabrina was dressing the wound on Jonah's leg. "We didn't think to consider it a prime location because of the supposed instability of the surrounding structures."

"Supposed being the key word." Mac ran a hand through his hair, wincing slightly when even that movement pulled at his ribs.

"Sounds like that cave in might not have been an accident and the government could be doing old Gomez a damn big favor keeping the area off limits." Jack leaned his head back against the wall.

"He's had officials in his pocket before." James's eyes moved over the clouds outside before focusing back on his son.

"It would be an idea place for a lab," Mac agreed. "Any number of caverns and chambers would serve as space, completely off the radar of anyone looking for the production site."

"We can't make that drug, Angus." James reiterated again. Mac wasn't sure but he briefly saw something like regret flicker in his father's gaze.

"Then I suggest you take the flight time to figure a way to get us out of this, Dad," Mac returned, quickly pushing the pang of empathy aside. "Because I have one goal and that's to keep my partner alive."

James only stared at him, face unreadable. When Mac refused to blink or back down, Oversight merely looked to Jack. "I'm counting on you to talk some sense into him."

"I'll work on that while you talk _your_ partner into turning this bird around and surrendering." Jack shook his head as if James were an idiot. "We'll see who accomplishes their task first."

James didn't bother with a response, instead standing and moving back to his seat. When he was out of earshot, Jack turned to Mac.

"You can't finish that drug, Angus."

Mac sighed. Once more the words were the same, but tinged with such diverse emotion and different depth of feeling that Mac wanted to weep, or scream. He wasn't sure which. He again felt the utter fool for chasing all over the globe after the fictional version of James MacGyver for so damn long and that recrimination along with the recent beating wearied him, made him want to curl up at Jack's side and hide like some frightened child. Instead of looking at his best friend because he feared the transparency that seemed to always exist between them would reveal his temporary moment of weakness he dug once into the medical kit hoping for some Ibuprofen, Tylenol or maybe even some antibiotic. It quickly became clear that he had been given a rudimentary, scavenged source, Sabrina obviously using the military grade one on Walsh.

"Mac?" Pain was growing more prominent in Jack's voice again.

"I can't lose you damn it!" Mac shoved the pathetic case away, scattering the meager contents around them. One of Walsh's soldiers who'd been hovering close by adjusted his rifle in warning. Mac glared at him, practically daring him to do something. When the hired henchman glanced away, Mac turned once more to Jack, who looked even more concerned than before. That only added to Mac's ilk and his remorse. He knew for a fact his partner was indeed right. Making KX7 was not a viable option. "I can't lose one more person, Jack. Especially not you." Not when he'd finally realized exactly what he'd be losing.

"Death is just a big old revolving door. You know that." Jack reached out, managing enough dexterity with his bound hands to catch the edge of Mac's shirt. He gave a sharp, little tug. "We all have to go through it sooner or later, kid."

"Maybe," Mac conceded, fairly, gaze flitting to one of the windows above Jack's head. He'd watched enough people leave to know what his partner was saying was true.

It didn't take much for Mac to let the years fall away, to envision himself as the ten year old he'd once been, standing with his hand on the knob of Harry's door which his dad had just exited, somehow knowing even then it was a different kind of goodbye, that the day would change everything-that it would change him. The wave of grief and heartache the particular memory brought had Mac quickly blinking the present back into view. Jack was watching him. He met his best friend's expectant gaze, gave a slight nod.

"But as long as I have anything to say about it, you're not walking through it anytime soon. Understood?"

Jack's mouth twitched and for the first time since climbing aboard the RACER, Mac wasn't completely terrified of failing his best friend. "I read you loud and clear, brother."

"Good." Mac made his way to Jack's side, resting against the wall, his shoulder barely touching his partner's. "Because I'm going to think of something."

Providing a crazed Cartel drug lord with the capability of creating an army of super soldiers might not be the solution, but as Jack had pointed out earlier, Mac's super strength was improvising.

To be continued….


	5. Chapter 5

Nature Versus Nurture

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: Thank you for all the very kind reviews. There are only a few Fridays left until the season premiere. I can't quite believe it! Hopefully I will finish this story by then as planned. Would love to hear your take on what you think may happen on the show! I have seen just enough spoilers to be slightly hopeful, but also wary, which is why I should forbid myself from reading spoilers and looking at behind the scene pics!

RcJ

" _Scientists are learning that it's not just environmental triggers that activate or silence genes, but emotional ones too. Stress triggers cortisol and adrenaline, which travel through our bodies delivering information that can impact cell function-positively or negatively-and forever alter our gene function." –Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_

It seemed to Jack they had been climbing for hours. In reality, according to his very accurate internal clock, less than thirty minutes had likely passed since the RACER touched down and Walsh had made them hoof it out on this last leg of his little field trip. The blazing sun and his injuries no doubt compounded the strain, skewing perspective and causing him to sweat like he was running a marathon instead of carefully navigating the winding path up a mountainside in the middle of nowhere. Jack knew the fever wasn't helping, neither was the cough that had gotten persistently worse and seemed to suck the energy from him faster than he could muster it. He blamed the broken ribs and nasty water Walsh had repeatedly doused him with during their little interrogation session and wanted to kick the man over the steep incline to plummet into oblivion.

The furtive glances Mac kept casting him ever so slyly as he raked a hand through his blond hair wasn't making matters any easier. Jack's partner had let his mop grow out so that it curled around the collar of his shirt, fell over his forehead in a way that threatened to veil his expressive eyes. He'd also dropped some weight despite the fine cooking Jack knew Carlos's mother-in-law would have dished up at every meal. It had him looking waifish and far too much like the twenty year old he'd been in those months after they'd come back from Afghanistan, the one who'd worked hard at disappearing. But Jack saw. He had twenty-twenty laser sight when it came to the kid and he was worried. The move Mac had pulled back in the chopper was enough to have Jack's MacGyver Radar kicking into overdrive.

He bit his lip when he stumbled on a rock, going hard to his knees. The jar reverberated through his abused body, reawakening the dull ache of his wounds when his bound hands allowed him little grace in recovering. He swallowed the grunt of pain, unwilling to give Walsh and his cronies, who flanked them, one bit of satisfaction. For a moment Jack let his head hang down, closing his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest and he was thirsty. Jack swallowed thickly, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him.

"Jack." Mac's voice was hushed, but strained.

The kid's hand on his shoulder had Jack shaking his head, conjuring a grim grin. "Damn two left feet," he grumbled.

"You okay?" Mac frowned at him, worry and an unfamiliar anger in his eyes. Even with only one good eye, Jack couldn't help but to notice that some good old guilt was mixed in as well, and he wanted to strangle James for his part in Mac always accepting far too much responsibility for the things that went to hell around him.

"I'm good." Jack answered too quickly, looking up at the kid with what he was sure was an unconvincing blink when his vision wavered in and out of focus. Bruises from Mac's round with Walsh were already coloring the kid's eye and chin, standing out glaringly against his fair skin. The realization that Jonah had put his hands on the boy, did damage right in front of Jack had a fury-fueled adrenaline surging. Jack used it to get his feet beneath him. He took another careful breath, gesturing to his dusty cowboy boots as if the fault lay merely in his feet. "Just wasn't planning on a hike in the mountains."

"I thought you were heading to the canyon when Jonah grabbed you." Mac maintained his grip, helping hoist Jack the rest of the way to standing. He kept a steadying hand on Jack's elbow when Jack seemed everything but steady on his feet.

"To ride." Jack glanced once more to the scarred and scuffed Justin boots as if they were solely to blame for his stumble. They both knew Jack could have been sporting his favorite combat gear in full tactical regs and still been in piss poor shape for any excursion, let along a trek into Peruvian ruins. He appreciated it when Mac didn't say as much, instead giving the barest of smiles as he loosened the tight grip he had on Jack's arm.

"I'd give anything to be on a trail ride with Treaty right about now." Mac sounded lost, almost defeated. It was a tone Jack rarely heard from his partner. He wanted to curl his hands into fists, or better yet use those fists first on Walsh and then on Oversight.

Jack bumped his shoulder, blinking when the movement brought on a wave of dizziness. "I'll remember that when we head home for JP's famous Fourth of July picnic."

"Less chatting, girl scouts. More walking," Jonah called. He was positioned near the front with his comrade in crime, Lady Sabrina as Jack had come to think of her. She flitted about like royalty, a leggy gazelle among a throng of wild boar and damned if she didn't remind him more of Nikki than she did Cage. Mac's ex could hold court with the best of them. Their former teammate's princess routine and occasional damsel in distress act were especially effective on Jack's partner, but looking back, Jack could admit he'd pandered to Nikki more times than not when she'd batted her big baby blues. He imagined Jonah and James were no less immune to a beautiful woman nor a damn good con than he and the kid.

"Do you think Cage knew?" Mac's question was just above a whisper, deep lines scored his forehead.

Jack cocked his head to the side, trying to read his partner's expression. The look of uncertainty had him showing great restraint in not turning around and laying into Oversight, maybe drop-kicking that bastard over the ledge. He feared Mac would forever be haunted by the secrets that just kept turning up like skeletons in some sociopath's freshly plowed killing field, that they would somehow do damage in ways that Jack couldn't ward off with physical might. He sighed, holding his ribs. "Damned if I know, bud."

"It would make sense," Mac kept talking and Jack knew it was the genius's way of letting his mind work on something that was within his control so he let him go although Cage was no longer in the picture and nothing would change what she did or didn't have knowledge of while she was part of their team. "Why she never felt quite right with the rest of us," the kid continued chewing on his proverbial bone. "Why...

"Why you never did more than just _think_ about kissing her?" Jack inserted with a smirk.

Mac rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide the slight color that came to his face. "You don't know me as well as you think, man."

"Damn, kid, I know you as well as I know the engine of my daddy's car. As well as I know the lay of the land at Narrow Path. Better than your daddy ever will"

Mac didn't bother with the sham of refuting what they both knew was true. Instead he plowed on with his theory about Cage. "Something held us _all_ back from completely accepting her. She was always on the outside, like Matty in the beginning. It's possible she could have known who Oversight was all along, especially if my dad brought her on for his own reasons."

"Maybe that's why Murdoc shot her." Jack tossed that bread crumb out, almost like he would hand the kid a paperclip to fiddle with. The buckets of crazy assassin had some kind of sick and twisted one-sided relationship with Mac. If he thought Cage wasn't on the up and up, it would almost be right out of the psycho's script to off her as some kind of homage to Mac, because something about the man choosing Cage to hurt the blond genius in the first place just didn't make sense. Never had. Bozer or Jack himself would have made a lot more sense if Murdoc's aim had been to break his nemesis. Jack took a careful, shallow breath, feeling a cough already bubbling up from his straining lungs. Beads of sweat were running down his face. Despite their mounting elevation, the hot humid air hung around them thick and sultry, not helping matters one bit in the breathing department.

"Murdoc might have known she was an imposter but I don't think he knew about Oversight." Mac continued his train of thought, glancing up the winding trail. Jack followed his line of sight, not sure if he should be grateful or wary that it seemed they were almost to the top. The dread-filled look Mac flashed him told Jack it was probably the latter even if his legs felt like spaghetti and his head pounded in perfect rhythm with each step he managed. Mac inched protectively ever so closer to him, almost supporting his weight.

"I think you're probably right about that, bud. That kind of intel would have been too good for him to keep to himself." Jack felt his feet dragging with every new step he took. He knew his body was stretching beyond its limits and almost understood why a drug like KX7 would be so beneficial in warfare. By now he was just running on dregs of adrenaline and sheer stubbornness alone.

"He would have found a way to use it against me," Mac agreed, reluctantly letting go of Jack's arm when one of Walsh's goons was stepping closer to them. "Murdoc knows exactly how to exploit any weakness."

Jack held back on saying what he was thinking. That Jonah Walsh was about to use Mac's greatest weakness against him. His heart.

"Angus, you need to listen to me." Even as Jack spoke he realized he was wasting precious breath but he still felt the need to say the words his partner would likely disregard. When Mac shot him a suspicious side glance at the use of his first name, Jack bolstered his resolve and lifted his chin. "No matter what happens here... don't do something you'll regret, do you hear me?"

"Something like letting you die?" Mac's brow furrowed, his eyes hardening. Jack wanted to growl in frustration at the stubbornness he could already see cementing the kid's own doggedness. "Because that's not happening."

"I was thinking more along the lines of turning yourself inside out and betraying all that you stand for to help these asswipes get their grubby hands on the super soldier serum." Jack was convinced his life wasn't worth the kid compromising his values in a way that might further change him. He refused to be the impetus for an act that could forever alter the young man who in their initial interactions had frustrated Jack beyond comprehension, baffled him with his aversion to violence and novel way of looking at things, his single-minded determination to do the right thing the right way. Jack huffed, awkwardly pressing his arm against his ribs which protested the harder breath that his frustration was requiring. "I meant what I said about this world being a better place with you in it. Helicopter parenting isn't the only thing I'm prepared to do to keep you in it, to keep you just like you are."

It was why Jack had been willing to sell his soul to get the kid out of Afghanistan when he could see the small fissures in the boy's spirit start to show. It's why he joined up with DXS and stayed with Phoenix even after Nikki's and Thornton's betrayal left a bad taste in his mouth as well as him looking over his shoulder expecting another knife in the back at every turn. It's also why Jack would continue to work for a man he didn't trust or necessarily like. James MacGyver had done one right thing as far as Jack was concerned and beyond contributing DNA to quite possibly the finest human being Jack had ever known, the idiot was a complete waste of breath until he proved otherwise, which wasn't damn likely if Jack's experience with the man so far was any indication.

"How many people do you think you've killed to keep me alive?"

Jack barely heard the question but it still felt a bit like a punch to the solar plexus. It at least momentarily snapped him back to the present, a lot like Jonah's dashing him with the putrid water had done back in the jungle. He huffed. "Damn, kid, do you really want me to do that math? Now?"

"If it makes you see what a hypocrite you're being then, yeah, yeah I do." Anger was once more replacing the deep worry in Mac's eyes.

Jack didn't get a chance to answer before they were stopped by Jonah's abrupt halt. Given the opportunity he might have explained again what they both damn well knew. It didn't matter the sum. Jack was wired differently. He didn't like to take lives, but did so with the belief that he was doing what was necessary for a greater good. Jack could rationalize with the best of them. Mac's scales of justice however weren't skewed in such a way, the weight of causing any harm to anyone far more soul crushing for the kid. His partner would do what he needed to but his conscious would demand he pay for it later in ways Jack's never would.

"You boys will not be winning the quiet mouse award," Jonah made his way towards them, two of his rent a soldiers book-ending him. "Following orders seems to be a problem that runs in the family."

"If you wanted to cut the chatter, you could have led a rousing tune as we marched, Walsh," Jack suggested, trying to straighten to his full height. He got his first look at the cordoned off area that had been a working excavation until Gomez had sabotaged the project to instigate a whole other kind of development. The entire place looked like some sort of medieval fortress, complete with stone arches which they were now standing beneath. "Maybe something to encourage the troops."

"Sometimes I find it hard to believe we belonged to the same Army, Dalton." Jonah motioned to one of his men who moved towards Jack with clear intent. "Our ideas on proper motivation are so radically different."

The guard reached for Jack and he would have made a step to evade if he hadn't sensed Mac tense beside him, afraid his partner would continue his uncharacteristic irrationality. They were out-manned and in a situation that didn't allow for escape. Running meant cliff jumping or making a go of it in the wide-open in front of men with scopes and rifles. Jack tamped down on instincts that would have normally had him putting up one hell of a fight, and managed a grin instead.

"Is this where you show us to our comfy accommodations and refer what we should order from room service." Jack shot Mac a look when the kid took a step closer to him, giving a barely perceptible nod of his head. He narrowed his gaze at Jonah, taking another shallow breath. "I sure as hell hope you don't expect me to tip because I think I lost my wallet during my kidnapping."

"You and Jimmy are going to be staying in our presidential suite." Jonah nodded over his shoulder, some dark emotion flashing in his eyes. One of the stone structures seemed to be the main 'house' as it was. "Mr. Gomez has been anxious to meet you. He's arranged a party to welcome the men responsible for that fiasco in Mexico."

"That sounds fun." Jack cast his gaze to James, who had his own escort and was now standing shoulder to shoulder with Jack. "I don't know about you, Oversight, Sir, but I have been wanting an intro to the infamous cartel leader, Luis Gomez, since Phoenix blew up his meth operation last year."

James mouth quirked, and Jack actually found his fearless act begrudgingly admirable. "You should have brought your villain trading cards, Agent Dalton. He might have signed it."

The answer had Jack's grin widening, surprised that his boss followed his lead. He wasn't really taken aback by the fact the man had a pair. Mac had been a smart ass from day one after all, long before Jack had nurtured any dormant bad-assery genes in the kid.

"I had almost forgotten how you can get your bravado up, Jimmy." Jonah ran a hand down his goatee. "Too bad I won't be in on the fun seeing as how I'll be overseeing your kid's progress in the lab myself. Wouldn't want him to try and pull any MacGyver hijinx when we're on a definite time line."

"If you hurt them I'll…" Mac started, hands curled into fists.

Jonah moved quick as a snake's strike, once more impressing Jack with his ability to move his muscular mass. He had his big, meaty mitt around Mac's throat before the kid could finish his thought, taking him completely by surprise.

"Mac!" Jack lunged forward, the instinct to protect his struggling partner not one he could so easily control with sheer force of will. It was primal and reflexive. The big man beside him held tight, a buddy stepping in to make sure Jack was going no damn where despite his innate need to help his boy. He heard James say his former partner's name, half startled exclamation, half order to stand down.

Jonah ignored him, practically lifting Mac up by his neck, the kids toes the only thing still on the sandy ground. "You are going to do whatever the hell I ask you to do, Angus. If you don't, I'll bring your daddy in and start taking his fingers one by one. I'll make you eat them just for fun." Walsh hissed, his voice hard as fired steel. "You will help Sabrina finish my drug and you'll do it right because your partner is going to be my very first test subject."

Walsh let go of Mac, more throwing him to the ground than merely dropping the kid. Jack watched his best friend push himself up on shaky hands, coughing as he gulped in a few gasps of air, red imprints on his neck marking the points where Walsh had kept pressure. Their eyes met briefly before Jack was jerked away, shoved roughly towards one of the red-clay structures jutting from the ground. The sudden momentum made him stumble, almost going down again when his knees buckled. He could catch himself, but not without another harsh reminder why he was not at his best. A hacking cough escaped his tightly pressed lips, it made Jack groan. He was pretty sure what lay instore was going to suck, but nothing would quite match the pain that Mac's look of helplessness brought. Being unable to do a damn thing to help the kid was a whole different, terrible kind of torture.

RcJ

" _Genetically we are inextricably linked to our mothers through mitochondrial DNA. It lives in the cell between the nucleus and the cell membrane. Like the Y chromosome, MtDNA does not combine with genes inherited from your other parent but is passed on whole, to you. It will live inside you-the story of your mother, and her mother and all the mothers who came before. " –Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_

" _T_ he only thing you can do to help them is to help me."

At Sabrina's soft voice, Mac tore his dark gaze from Jack and James' disappearing forms although every instinct was screaming at him not to let them out of his sight, to do something-anything to stay together. It felt too much like they had already lost the battle. No, Mac shook his head slightly, his fingers curling around the loose sand on the ground. Something Nana Beth had said to him ages ago floated back into his mind. _Nothing is lost until one loses hope._ They had fought too many fights, went up against too many enemies to quit now. He would find a way to get all three of them to safety.

What Mac did was look up at his father's former partner, Samantha Cage's mother. The face was almost sympathetic and so familiar. It brought another wave of betrayal that he couldn't quite dodge. Sometimes Mac felt as if he might drown in all the secrets.

Mac ignored the hand offered, pushing himself back to his feet with new determination, albeit a little shakily. Worry was twisting the churning knot in his gut, the unknown of what his father and partner were facing gnawing at him. New determination or not, Mac still didn't know what to do next. Making that drug wasn't an option, at least not the version his father had master-mined, but letting Jack and even his father suffer wasn't either. Especially when it was obvious that Jack was in far worse shape than he let on in the beginning.

"I hope your lab is in better working order than the third-rate defunct one Walsh and his rent-a-chemist put together in Mexico." Mac couldn't resist, flashing Jonah a disdainful glower despite knowing it was the kind of goading he'd chide Jack for doing if he were in such a position.

"I hope you don't try to burn this one to the ground." Jonah came back with a smirk, jutting his chin toward Mac's throat. Mac resisted the urge to touch the heated skin, swallowing hard instead, hoping Jonah didn't notice the reflexive action. "Or maybe I do," Jonah said seriously. "That would give me a reason to hurt you."

"I wasn't involved at that sight," Sabrina interrupted, brushing her hair behind her ear. She favored Walsh with her own look of disapproval. "I was in Switzerland and then here, so I didn't realize we were diversifying our resources per say until it was too late, but I should have suspected seeing as how patience has never been Jonah's strong suit. He doesn't understand that sometimes careful planning is preferable to trial and error. He likes to think he's padding his odds by betting on several horses at once."

"Which only bleeds money or raises the body count," Mac said under his breath, all too easily recalling the walls splattered with blood in the Mexican lab, the videos he'd watched of Jonah's failed test subjects. His mind briefly flashed to Bozer and something he had said about some of the videos reminding him of _The Walking Dead_. Once again Mac felt regret about just running off to Puerto Rico. It had seemed the right move back then, the only possible step but it hadn't been home. Right now he was longing for the cavalry to show.

"And bleed resources it did, especially after you and father were finished," Sabrina added, the strand she had just tugged behind her ear escaping and falling into her face once more. "Of course, your father's sometimes plodding methods used to make Jonah crazy and he often reacted foolishly." She gestured to another building in the compound and didn't wait for Jonah to start that way before taking point. "Samuel and I spent many years being the voice of reason and establishing a common ground."

"Samuel was your husband?" Mac asked, casting one last longing look in the direction his partner and James had gone before straightening and following her. He refocused, carefully taking stock of his surroundings as they made their way over the rocky ground. Sabrina looked at home here, like a host eager to show off her grand estate, if that estate were a pile of primitive ruins. The sun was setting in a red ball of fire, and any other time he supposed the scene would have been beautiful. The excavation site provided a panoramic view of the rich, green valleys below, and the surrounding peaks on all sides. Parts of Choquequirao were still open below them, although the five day trek from Cusco was only undertaken by the most avid of enthusiasts.

"Oh, Angus," Sabrina's melodic laugh broke through his thoughts of tactical maneuvers and speculations of difficulties Phoenix would have in finding them. They were hiding in plain sight and unless Riley remembered the property and looked past the obvious flaws it made for a basecamp, they were likely screwed on a timely rescue. "Women like me don't typically have husbands," Sabrina concluded, her tone almost chiding.

"At least not ones that belong to them." Jonah inserted as he kept pace with them. One of his men trailed slightly behind.

Mac noted that Sabrina appeared immune to the innuendo, merely shrugging one slender shoulder. She glanced at him. "Sam was a colleague, a dear friend and irrefutably handsome, much like yourself. He completed our little rag tag team at a time when the four of us were the go to squad when our peers at the CIA or FBI had their hands tied. We were a family, much like you and your teammates I imagine."

Mac wanted to deny there was any similarities between his team and his father's former associates but then he'd been betrayed not only by Nikki but Thornton as well. Instead, he tossed out a question he wanted answered.

"Was he Cage's father?"

Jack had taught Mac to keep his opponent always on the defensive, but the mention of the other woman barely brought a flash of steely blue eyes cast in Mac's direction.

"I may have led Olivia to believe that," Sabrina answered vaguely.

"Or maybe like the kid here she considered James as the culprit." Clearly Jonah was enjoying the needling. He roughly nudged Mac, putting a promise of real pain into it. "Maybe that's why she cozied up to you, Mini Mac. Hoping for answers that Mommy Dearest wouldn't give her."

"That's her real name?" Mac blatantly ignored Walsh and his lewd insinuations.. "Olivia?"

"It sure as hell wasn't Sam Cage, that's for damn sure," Jonah answered, sharing a look with Sabrina. "Seems she took a page out of her mother's book, meaning you better never count on getting what you think you're getting." A grin that never reached Walsh's eyes appeared on his face. "I'm still not convinced Rina is from Australia. You should hear her Russian accent, and the sexy little French one she can turn on at the drop of a hat."

"Jonah, men love a woman of mystery." Sabrina favored Mac with another side look, one that had his stomach twisting. He thought about his own mom, how she'd been a scientist as well, but one who'd shared her talent and understanding inspiring countless students. He felt sorry for Cage, or whatever her real name might have been. Almost.

"Men also like guns, whiskey and cigars, Rina," Jonah groused. "All of which will kill a guy if he isn't careful. Just ask Sam. Oh, right we can't. He's dead."

"Don't be so serious." Another grand smile appeared but her gaze remained cold. "I bet Angus found Olivia, or Samantha was it, quite fascinating and intriguing."

Mac didn't comment, letting the opportunity pass him by. Decidedly, his line of inquiry was getting him nowhere fast, the two former DXS agents far too used to misinformation and deceit. He felt a bit like a mouse batted about by bored cats, and briefly wondered if his own team _could_ end up as jaded and counterfeit with one another. Perhaps Jack's grand idea of a private security firm in Hawaii wasn't such a bad idea.

"Right." Jonah rolled his eyes. "Because geniuses like the MacGyvers don't fall for a gorgeous face and nice ass." He stepped around them to greet the man at the entranceway. The guard was dressed in plain clothes and if not for the gun strapped to his thigh would have passed for a hiker who'd come to explore and catch a few selfies with the legendary ruins.

Sabrina ignored Jonah, smoothing a hand over her blond hair, straightening the collar of her blouse. "My daughter and I don't get on very well," she confessed, sounding a bit wistful. "But I am quite proud of her accomplishments, if not exactly supportive of the role she played for your father. If I know Livie she probably performed her part brilliantly, using all her assets. "

"Right up until she was shot by a psychopath and nearly died," Mac said coldly, finding it somewhat satisfying when the woman blanched ever so slightly her smile disappearing. He had been riddled with guilt after Murdoc gunned down their teammate on Christmas, believing he was the reason. In the time since, he'd pondered other possible scenarios as to why the assassin had chosen her as a target, knowing very well that any other person close to him would have been more effective in hurting him. Of course, Murdoc liked to poke at Mac. He'd accepted the attack as the other man toying with him, taking out Cage, as a warning as to what was to come. But now Murdoc's move was beginning-as he'd said to Jack earlier-starting to make a sick sort of sense.

"We Greens are hard to kill," Sabrina pronounced, all traces of concern quickly disappearing.

"Much like a cockroach." Jonah motioned them through the entranceway, obviously still monitoring their conversation. Mac stepped past his father's former partner, noting that the interior of the structure was as primitive as the outside, which meant they'd more than likely taken advantage of the intricate system of tunnels below, hiding their work from anyone who might innocently stumble upon the site despite the government's closure of the particular section. Not for the first time since they had parted with Matty and the others Mac wished Phoenix would swoop in and save the day. Mac squared his shoulders, his mind racing to take in every detail as they moved further into the dimly lit cave structure. He would likely be providing the only rescue available.

"I was thinking more along the lines of lovely English Ivy," Sabrina trilled. As she passed Jonah, she roughly patted his cheek. "Beautiful to look at, but also resilient and relentless."

"I could see the comparison," Walsh snorted. "Considering I've watched you creep into places you're not wanted and choke the life out of more than one man."

"Don't let Jonah paint the wrong picture of me, Angus." Sabrina strode to a section of the room that appeared to have been heavily damaged by the supposed cave in. To Mac's surprise, the woman removed a stone, revealing a start of the art silver key pad, which she placed her palm against. A hidden door slid away, revealing a stone stairway. She glanced over her shoulder. "He was always a tad bitter about my insinuating myself into his and James's partnership although DXS's Oversight at that time saw me as invaluable. Jonah claimed I threw a wrench into their dynamic." She smiled, shrugging slightly." You might not believe it now, but those two were as thick as thieves at one point, like brothers really, and Jonah was extremely protective of your father. He saw it as his mission to keep him safe, especially from me."

Mac couldn't help but to think about the times Jack had warned him off Nikki, not exactly happy about their relationship even in the beginning. He'd used such arguments as Nikki being older and not exactly the kind of woman Mac would ever take home to Texas, which looking back, Mac never did, not once, even when Jack's grandmother Beth invited her to Christmas one year.

"Ancient history," Jonah growled, waving his rifle for Mac to precede him into the tunnel.

"Or not," Sabrina chided, her gaze briefly going back to Walsh. "If his insistence to Luis Gomez that James was not necessarily the mastermind behind the ruined lab in Mexico is any indication I'd say he still finds watching out for your father a hard habit to break."

"Or maybe I just wanted to throw Mini Mac's buddy, Dalton, under the bus." Jonah bumped not too gently into Mac, who apparently wasn't descending the twisting stairwell quickly enough for his taste. Mac suppressed an involuntary noise of pain when the sudden movement startled his injuries and had him gripping the handrail to stay on his feet. "That man is all kinds of irritating. There were reasons I didn't want Jimmy to pick him for Baby Boy's Overwatch."

"Like you had any say in the matter," Mac snapped, feeling his anger bubble back to the forefront of his emotions. It had been hard enough to accept that his own father had played a hand in his and Jack's assignment in Afghanistan, but allowing Jonah a part in their story was not conceivable.

"I put the first list together, half pint." Jonah faced Mac when they made their way to the bottom of the stairs, automatic lighting clicking on at their presence, row by row of fluorescence revealing their new setting. "Jack Dalton wasn't even in my top three."

Mac would have been more upset by the revelation if he hadn't been momentarily stunned by the modern facility spread out before him in the stone cavern. It was as up to date as any at Phoenix, and he briefly thought of his old friend Frankie from MIT. She would have openly wept in delight at the equipment. A voice that decidedly sounded like Jack's echoed through Mac's mind, claiming it all looked as if Iron Man and Stark Industries had taken over and updated an old Indiana Jones movie set.

"I see you're impressed." Sabrina waved an arm to encompass the space. Her face glowed with pride. Mac supposed her haughtiness from earlier made much more sense now. She was lording over every scientists dream playground. She sighed dramatically, pressing her clasped hands to her lips. "It's amazing what one can do when money isn't really an object. Carte Blanche is my favorite kind of budget."

"Of course an investment such as this, especially when the backer is a businessman like Gomez, demands a great payoff." Jonah looked pointedly at Mac. "That's where you come in, kid. You either fix my drug which I then will give to Gomez, or someone pays for all of Sabrina's shiny toys with a pound or two of flesh."

Mac tried to look away, but Walsh reached out and gripped his face, the other man's fingers digging painfully into already blooming bruises. He yanked him closer to his bulking frame in a move Mac knew was meant to intimidate, one which silently screamed as to who was in control. "You think Dalton is paying a high price for, what did you call it, that third rate, defunct lab I set up in Mexico? Imagine what this baby will cost him if you and Sabrina don't produce gold. And not only him, but daddy dearest as well."

"That's not going to be an issue, Jonah." Sabrina placed a hand on Walsh's shoulder. "Angus and I will come up with the solution to fix that nasty little side-effect of the serum as soon as you leave us to do our work."

"I'm not going anywhere." Jonah roughly let Mac go, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm staying put until James's little savant hands over the first batch of KX7."

"I don't know about you, Angus, but I for one don't mind performing as someone watches." Sabrina actually winked, patting Mac's shoulder. He got the impression she was trying to align herself with him in some good cop/bad cop reenactment. Or maybe she was attempting to be motherly, something he had a feeling would never work for her. It was akin to a tigress attempting to pass herself off as a gentle doe and Mac had another pang of empathy for Cage. "In fact," Sabrina continued on, undaunted when Mac actually took a step away from her, "I've done some of my best work while hidden cameras and comms monitored my every move. As a fellow spy, I've no doubt you could say the same."

Mac felt a wave of nausea, as if he were currently living some sort of nightmare. His thoughts were racing, sorting through possible escape scenarios. They couldn't outrun Jonah and his goons. Even if Mac could make it out and free his father and Jack, his partner wasn't in any condition to make a quick escape. It would also only put a delay to this inevitable. Mac was certain the only way to get Walsh off their backs was to imprison or kill him, more likely the latter. And there was still a whole cartel to consider.

He had to find another way. Mac's eyes moved over the equipment of the room. He exhaled slowly, resolved to his current fate, and for one solitary moment regretting the intellect that made him as dangerous as one of the unexploded ordinance he used to dismantle in the desert. It looked as if he had no other choice but to go to work for HYDRA.

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Nature versus Nurture

By: Ridley

A/N: I am so trying to get this story finished before Friday! Mary is doing her best to keep me motivated. We are almost there! To all of those who have reviewed, thank you so much. For those wanting more Love Wins, I am on it as soon as this 'summer' story is finished. Lol. Just in time for the season premier to do it completely differently, although it looks as if Jack may be the impetus that brings Mac back home in cannon as well, just as it has happened countless time during hiatus in many writers' imaginations. I hope you guys are still hanging in there. Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than most, but another should be on the way very soon.

RcJ

" _Neuroscientist Moran Cerf of Northwestern University has found scientific evidence to prove that long-term happiness depends on who you're friends with. He says that when two people are together, their brain waves will sync, becoming nearly identical. 'The more we study engagement, we see time and again that just being next to certain people aligns your brain with them. This means the people you hang out with actually have an impact on your engagement with reality, beyond what you can explain. And one of the effects is you become alike." –Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_

Someone was calling his name. There was a heaviness on his shoulder, a gentle shaking.

Jack found it hard to open his eyes or move away from the annoying touch. He wasn't sure he wanted to extend the effort. The last time he'd been conscious he was certain things had not gone well, although he wasn't clear on how long ago that had been. Time was fickle when you were being tortured. Jack was sure there had been fists, a blade, helplessness and pain. Not exactly the awakening one wanted to entertain no matter who was insisting he heed their call.

Yet, there was a nagging insistence that Jack needed to try and fight his way from the reprieve of unconsciousness. Sometimes his protective instincts overrode any iota of self-preservation. The unrelenting demand that urged him to fight his way back, was one based in fear and an ingrained radar that Mac was nearby, maybe in trouble. The prospect of failing his best friend stirred him. It sparked enough adrenaline to respond to the urgent request for him to wake the hell up.

"Dalton?"

This time semi-clarity permitted discernment, and Jack groaned, frowning. He knew that voice and it wasn't Mac's.

"Oversight," he muttered hoarsely. There was indeed a MacGyver present, but not the one which had spurred Jack's return. The former Delta wasn't sure he should be grateful or disappointed that his partner wasn't the one rousing him. A slow realization that he was in Peru and a flashback of what they had been through since being welcomed by Luis Gomez solidified his gratitude that it was James MacGyver leaning over him in the darkened cell and not the man's son. He had been in similar situations with Mac, and it never got any easier.

"Can you hear me?" James inquired, anchoring Jack in the present, preventing his mind from revisiting other captivities when Jack had been hurt and also unable to protect his partner. The difficulty to focus also proved what Jack feared, that he was probably way more screwed than he cared to admit. It was crazy hard to keep his thoughts straight and he had no account of how long he'd been unconscious. "Dalton?" James tried again. "Are you with me?"

"Mostly," Jack finally ground out, his voice rough and barely recognizable. He tried to sit up and found he couldn't manage on his own. He also couldn't suppress a groan which sparked a deep, wet cough, leaving Jack breathlessly panting for a moment and feeling much like a soggy, shivering kitten pulled from some miserable watery grave in the nick of time. Every muscle in his body seemed to protest the tiniest attempt at movement and his boss gripped his shoulder, lending his assistance. Jack gritted his teeth, panting at the exertion the small motion had incited. When he was sitting mostly upright propped against the rough stone wall, he had to close his eyes for a moment, letting his abused body adjust to the new position. His head spun, but when his lungs no longer felt like they were blocks of stone in his chest, he managed to open one eye. There was just enough light from a high barred window in the stone that he could make out the other man. James had a few bruises, a smear of dried blood at the corner of his mouth, but otherwise seemed fine. Still, Jack felt the need to ask, "You okay?"

"I'm definitely faring better than you." A frown appeared on the other man's face.

"It's not a competition." Jack tried for a grin he didn't really feel, but his mouth was too swollen for much effect. Gomez had seemed especially pissed at him and had appeared to relish in allowing James to play spectator.

Whatever the reasoning, James had mostly been spared and had held up fairly well in the not so pleasant session with their captors. He'd schooled his emotions perfectly, impressively almost looking bored by the ways Gomez's men hurt Jack, but If Jack wasn't mistaken the man before him now seemed concerned and worried for his welfare. Of course, he wasn't used to reading James MacGyver's expressions, nowhere near as vetted as he was in knowing the man's son's every tell. Where James's dark eyes revealed little, shuttered against Jack's study, Mac's blue ones had always been like open windows. Jack was decidedly glad the kid wasn't here to stare at him with his big doe eyes knowing his grave condition would have no doubt had his partner up in arms, every fear and self-recrimination glaringly bright in a backdrop of pale blue.

"Don't feel bad for the lack of love they showed ya," Jack fell back to old hat. Humor. Deflect. Banter. Those were the tried and true methods that got him through. He suppressed a cough, not ready for the pain he was sure would follow. "Mac says I tend to bring out the worst in homicidal sociopaths who get off on torture, draw them to me like a macho-cist."

"I think you mean _masochist_ and a few memos have come across my desk corroborating my son's theory." James gave Jack's shoulder a quick squeeze before removing his touch completely. His features became flat, all hints of distress disappearing beneath a clear conveyance of taxed authority. "It might help if you didn't insist on talking so much."

"No, Mac coined the term macho-cist just for me." Jack would have laughed at James expression if he hadn't known just how much it would hurt his damaged ribs. He was finding breathing difficult enough as it was, congestion rattling every labored inhale. "He says the talking is a side-effect to the deadly condition."

"Yet, you don't listen." James sat back on his heels, his eyes searching their surroundings in an all too familiar way. Jack suddenly missed Mac. He was used to the kid taking in every inch of their environment, looking for things to use in whatever way they needed. With his partner it was comforting. With James, it was unsettling. Jack supposed trust made a monumental difference in perspective on potential improvisations. James didn't seem to notice Jack's rise in anxiety. He stood, exploring the rest of their small cell. "My son is insightful. You should take his advice."

"Your son is the smartest man I know." Mac was so many other things as well. Jack's throat tightened up, feeling a bit like he had just swallowed some crushed glass. He was fairly certain he'd give a few of his fingers for a cold drink. Not his trigger finger, mind you, but maybe both pinkies. Shoving thoughts of water aside, he licked his dry lips. He coughed again, fire sparking beneath his ribs. Jack let his head rest heavily against the rough wall, lolling it a little to follow James as Oversight cased their cell. "Still doesn't mean he can coax a wolf into poodle's clothing."

James cut his gaze to Jack, his frown deepening as if Jack was speaking nonsense. "You have a fever. You'll need medical treatment soon."

This time Jack did huff out a laugh at his boss's mistaking one of his 'Jack-isms' for delirium. As suspected his ribs cried out in protest. He brought an arm over his middle, curling his hand into a fist on the hard dirt ground to keep from making a sound. The strain on his body was leaving him exhausted and weak, two states he did not handle well especially while caught in a crisis. Jack was certain he had a punctured lung, possibly even some internal bleeding. Then there was the crud he could practically feel breeding in his chest, a bacterial infection, pneumonia maybe, that probably explained the sore throat and fever far better than his recent knife wounds.

He narrowed his one open eye at MacGyver, suppressing a shiver, the room feeling colder all of the sudden. "I think we both know I'm way past needing a medic, Sir."

"As I told Angus earlier, I know for a fact you've had worse and lived to tell about it."

"Hell of a pep talk, coach." Jack curled his lip, not quite caring about the callousness of Oversight's observation as far as his psyche went, but he was downright offended on behalf of his partner, felt his ire rise at the idea James had said as much to Mac. Mac, who was damn good at hiding his fears, but plagued by big ass bad ones no matter the nonchalance he could convey in most situations. Losing those he loved was the biggest baddest one of all.

"It didn't go over well with my son either, but I figured you might see the logic in it and take it for the encouragement it was meant." James wiped a hand over his forehead. The sweat that instantly beaded on his skin told Jack the room was stifling, too hot for him to be feeling so cold.

"I'm all for logic and reason, but it's not going to keep me breathing if I have to go another round with Gomez's goons." Jack coughed, clenching his teeth to bite back another noise of pain. Man, he was thirsty. "I'm usually keep a sense of humor about a good beating but I've reached my quota for the year."

"I think Gomez was satisfied with his demonstration the first go around." James got back to studying the narrow space they shared. "So you just have to hang on until I can get us all out of here."

"Good to know," Jack muttered. He wasn't afraid of dying, but he sure as hell didn't want to do it in a situation where Mac would be left unprotected, especially when the kid was surrounded by a den of pit vipers, along with his father, who Jack was beginning to see as an entirely different kind of cold-blooded creature. If the man thought he was actually encouraging Mac by reminding him of the ways Jack had been nearly killed in the past then he couldn't be trusted with the proper care and feeding of one Angus MacGyver, let alone a successful rescue.

"I'm sorry he seemed bent on taking his frustration out on you." Oversight's gaze seemed to gentle for a moment.

"See the earlier point about my certain charm." Jack inhaled shallowly, the blurred vision slowly subsiding. He glanced around, really seeing the place for the first time. Jack wondered if Gomez was afraid to do too much damage to Oversight, just in case they needed his big old MacGyver brain to help with the drug. Either way, he felt a certain responsibility for his boss's safety, an instinct that was perhaps heightened because of his connection to Mac. Shitty excuse for a father or not, he was still his partner's dad and he be damned if he failed at protecting anyone who belonged to his partner. That sentiment had kept him from putting a bullet in Nikki Carpenter, surely it could encourage him to shield the likes of Oversight. Jack took another shaky breath. "I take it they brought us to these lovely accommodations after I checked out."

James nodded, his calculating gaze roaming once more over the walls of the room. "We're in one of the small buildings on the peripheral of the main house. I'm not sure where they took Angus. I've already been over this space more than once, and found nothing. Even if we were to get out, there are guards posted everywhere. Gomez being here complicates things, because of the extra security, but I can't say I'm disappointed that he came to supervise. It's what I hoped for when we figured out Jonah was involved and if Director Weber follows through on my orders we'll have one of the most dangerous cartel drug lords off the street for good as well as putting Jonah where he belongs."

Jack didn't bother pointing out that there was probably ten men, all just as evil and cutthroat as Gomez, waiting to take the man's place. Instead he closed his heavy eyes, remembering Jonah's speculation that his former partner had his own agenda. "I'll try not to let the fact rescuing me wasn't your first priority hurt my feelings." Jack shifted a little, trying to find a spot where he could actually take in a breath without it causing agony.

"After what happened at Christmas I imagined you would want Gomez off the street as much as anyone." James crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes moving back to Jack.

Jack hoped the one-eyed glare he levelled on James was read as it was meant-a clear warning to tread carefully. Mac had been placed in a position he never should have been in by the cartel, one that had him sitting in a jail cell while Jack contemplated a prison break. They'd gotten him out of the mess, but for a while things had looked dark, especially when Mac had believed himself responsible for the death of a man the cartel had in fact murdered.

"I have no problem with taking Gomez down," Jack said, icily. "In fact, I will gladly put a bullet in him if I'm given the chance."

"I'd rather you show some restraint seeing as how he's a high valued target." James ran a hand through his hair, wiping both palms on his jeans. "One several agencies will want to get their hands on."

"That depends on how Mac fairs through all of this," Jack muttered, realizing that Gomez would be a golden feather in Phoenix's cap. He didn't want to know all the bureaucratic wheeling and dealing and inner-agency one-upmanship that went on behind closed doors. He'd learned enough about those politics while in the CIA. These days Jack preferred to keep his contact with other agents to the softball field thank you very much.

"As you said, my son is highly intelligent." James gazed up at the window that neither of them could reach, his fingers probing the rough structure below it. "He's resourceful and well-trained."

"He's also alone with your fucked up former partners from the original Suicide Squad. What the hell man?" Jack shook his head, realizing his mistake when the room spun, dark spots threatening at the edges of his limited vision. He'd worked with some screwed up sonsofbitches in his day, but none of them seemed a villainous match for Walsh and Sabrina Green. They were more on par with the bastard Murdoc

"Our past is complicated." James said evasively. He explored every detail in a way Jack had watched Mac do a thousand times. "It holds no relevancy on this situation, which has more to do with Jonah and Sabrina's desire to be extremely wealthy no matter who it hurts. At this point, I'd say their loyal to no one."

"My broken ribs beg to differ on the whole it not being personal part." Jack snorted, knowing damn well he'd stood in for James for two beatings now. He curled his hand tighter around his middle, the stuck tee shirt pulling uncomfortable at the knife wound in his shoulder. "This whole situation stinks to high heaven of a vendetta. Walsh told me as much. He's already hurt Mac once. He'll do it again, just to get a dig at you. I won't let that happen." The very thought made Jack anxious to get to his feet. He itched to do something besides act as a human punching bag.

"Look, Dalton, I know you're fond of my son." James turned from his inspection of a drain in the floor to face Jack once more. He propped his hand on his hips. "But I need for you to put your personal feelings aside and do your job. This is an official mission and..."

"You say that as if your son is on par with peach cobbler and eighties rap music, both of which I'm rather partial to." Jack's voice was hard but he knew him being threatening was a far reach in his current condition. James saying Jack was _fond_ of Angus MacGyver was like saying Jack _sort_ of liked Texas, or suggesting he was merely a fair weather fan of the Dallas Cowboys. It was akin to claiming Jack didn't mind horses so much and thought his grandfather was an alright dude.

In actuality Jack Dalton thought Texas was the finest state in the country, would have easily given his life defending her borders. He was a diehard loyal follower of everything Cowboy football and had loved the team since he was in diapers, staying true and stalwart during far more wretched seasons than amidst any rare winning streak. Jack thought horses one of God's greatest creations and as for his grandfather, well, Jack put JP Dalton on a pedestal, respected him more than he could express in mere words.

"I'm not just fond of Mac," Jack ground out, shifting slightly upright. "I love that kid, James. Like a brother, at times like he's my own damn son."

"But he's not." James closed the distance between them in two long-legged strides. He squatted in front of Jack, that laser-like focus now levelled completely on his agent. "Your son, that is. He's not your brother either, Jack, except in whatever way soldiers claim to have bonded beyond the scope of regular friendship. Angus is your partner, but he has always been and will always be _my_ son." There was an edge to James's words Jack hadn't heard before. Honestly, it pissed him off-this sudden possessiveness.

Jack felt the irrational desire to shout 'says who', but understood James well enough to know the man would easily rattle off a bunch of scientific rubbish about chromosomes and genes, biology being 9/10ths of the law when it came to parenthood . Of course the bastard would be right, damn it. Every time. James would technically for all intents and purposes be right. Only Jack wasn't wrong. Mac was his brother in every way that mattered, and Jack had been more of a father to the kid the past eight years than James MacGyver had ever attempted to be. After all, family didn't always end with blood. Sometimes DNA made no damn difference at all when it came to who belonged to one another.

Jack welcomed the sudden rush of sweet adrenaline. It helped him to push himself into a more upright position, no matter how hard his arms were shaking or how his breathing was coming in quick shallow pants. Anger was such a great motivator. "I'm going to hold you to that, Oversight, sir. I'm going to remind you of those very words every damn time you even look like you're going to act as if what you just said isn't true. You are his daddy, and that comes with a fucking responsibility to be what the kid needs you to be."

"I think you've forgotten something Jack, like who answers to who."

"Then that makes us even, because you seem to have forgotten a thing or two as well, like the fact it's my job to care about what happens to Mac. And there's the whole thing where I've been watching your boy for the past eight years." Jack blinked quickly, his vision wavering slightly. In his condition the built up anger he'd been holding back-no matter how hot and heavy- would only take him so far.

"A position _I_ put you in," James redirected. Jack easily heard the threat, the implication it was also a position that James could terminate. As if he could revoke Jack's stand-in parental card. Like hell.

Jack lifted a hand, punching the air between them. "You laid the ground work, but I re-upped for another tour. I _chose_ to stay with him, to watch out for him, when it would have been a hell of a lot easier to walk away and never look back. After all, I'd only known him for a couple of months, not years." Of course Jack had known after the first few weeks his attachment to the kid was different. They may have had a rough start, but Angus MacGyver struck a chord deep within Jack, one that resonated with a part of himself he hadn't known existed. He'd always had a protective streak, a desire to rescue what was lost and helpless, but on the surface Mac had seemed completely capable and self-sufficient. If the Delta was honest, he might have been the needier of the two at that point and Mac had inadvertently saved him long before he defused one single bomb on Jack's watch.

"And for another thing, Mac hasn't been a job to me for a long damn time. He's family. Nothing you do can change that."Jack's breathing was harder when he'd finished his fierce declaration. He unclenched his fist, brought it to cover his chest as he struggled for another breath. Whether the fact he looked like he might keel over at any moment or if James merely had no defense to Jack's argument he wasn't sure, but whatever the reason, Oversight merely rubbed a hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

"This isn't the time for us to fight with each other or beleaguer a view point neither is willing to concede. If my calculations are correct, Angus has had almost eight hours to work on that drug. With my notes and Sabrina's input, he'll have put something together by now. He may have even completed the serum."

"Oh good," Jack groaned, sagging back against the wall, completely drained. The slight shivering was getting more pronounced. He was certain feeling cold in a structure that was for all intents and purposes a natural sauna was not a good sign on how he was fairing. "Seeing as how I'm to be the guinea pig, I'm hoping the damn stuff might help with this feeling as if my chest is about to crack open and spill all my insides on the floor."

"On the contrary, it's likely to finish you off quickly. I don't see any way around the deadly side effects of a serum like KX7." James gestured to their surroundings, his brows drawing together. "Just like I don't see anyway out of this cell."

"Mac has a way of seeing things other people miss. He'd probably have had us out of here by now with a paperclip and chewing gum wrapper." Jack knew that was of course unlikely. He and Mac had been rendered stuck before but he couldn't help sticking it to James once more. Jack understood that James was probably as intelligent as his son, but no one would convince him that Mac wasn't some unique occurrence, a one in a million kind of anomaly. His IQ was only a small facet of the grand package-something James could never come close to touching no matter his smarts or resourcefulness.

"He's also prone to be swayed by his sentiment." James pinched the bridge of his nose with a huff, once more looking at Jack as if he'd just poured sour milk into his Cheerios. "I didn't plan on that when I put you two together. I expected him to see the value in your protection, but not to form such a deep dependence on you."

"You expected something more along the lines of the partnership you and Jonah had?" Jack closed his eyes when another hacking cough fought its way out, his brow furrowing. "I think I prefer our co-dependent issues."

"Despite the ending, Jonah and I worked well together for a lot of years, completed countless missions and saved thousands of lives." James's eyes grew distant for a second.

"Yet he still wants to kill you." Jack blinked James back into focus, clenching his teeth against the sudden chattering. "Mac may want his breathing space now and again, but your boy Walsh has no use for you now."

"If Jonah wanted me dead, I'm pretty sure I'd have been dead a long time ago." Oversight frowned, giving Jack a close once over.

"Then what exactly does he want? Besides KX7?" Jack knew there was more to the story, because a man didn't turn on his best friend, even a man like Walsh. If you watched someone's back for thirteen years, kept them alive and in one piece, it sure as hell wasn't because a guy simply took pride in his work. No. Jonah Walsh had been James's Overwatch for far too long to be doing it for a damn paycheck. They might not have been anywhere near as close as Jack and Mac, but they would have had a bond, of that Jack was certain. He would wager money James MacGyver would never relate any such details because he was as emotionally distant and closed off as his son had accused him of being on that mission in Mexico.

"Knowing Jonah it could be any number of things." James finally replied as vaguely as Jack had imagined he might. His gaze went once more to the window. "None of which probably have anything to do with KX7, but he'll gladly take that as a win just the same. It was his idea, after all."

"Jonah came up with KX7?" Jack fought to keep the gray out of his vision, raising a brow in question, the movement pulling at the cut above his eye.

"Not the formula, no, but the concept was one he latched on to after he was injured on a mission." James sighed, looking at Jack. "He was shot. The wound wasn't fatal, but the blood loss and pain incapacitated him. We didn't make exfil, and Oversight of DXS at the time disavowed us. We were in the wind for over three months."

"There's been times when I wouldn't mind some kind of super serum." Jack's thoughts instantly drifted to Cairo. If he could have truly hulked out on that mission, gone all super soldier and spared Mac what he'd gone through, a massive coronary might have been an alright price to pay. Thinking of being separated from his partner now, with Jonah in a position to hurt the kid just as Craddock had, Jack just might happily volunteer to be their test subject-no coercion needed. He was certain a quick death would be preferable to the misery he was feeling now, and if he got to go all Captain America on Walsh's ass, even better. He lifted a weak hand, gesturing to his sad state. "Like now for instance."

James shook his head. "As I told Jonah when I killed the research, soldiers however highly trained and beyond extraordinary in their skill, like you and your sharpshooting for instance, are still and will always be human. I'm not so sure that's a bad thing. It was foolish of me to think otherwise." If Jack didn't know better he actually thought Oversight might care what happened to him.

"Except when our weaknesses cause us to fail a mission." Jack licked his chapped lips, unable to bring any sufficient moisture to his mouth. His head hammered in time to his pounding heart, making thinking harder. "To men like me and Walsh, that's much worse than death."

"You do realize that's illogical." James's frown deepened, his eyes moving over Jack's slumped form once more as if he'd missed a way to fix him the first time. "If you're dead, then the mission wasn't a success, even if the goal was accomplished."

"Now you do sound like Mac." Jack rolled his eyes.

"As I pointed out before, you should listen to my son."

"That goes double for you." Just the thought of checking out of the game with James the only backup increased Jack's desire to hurl, but he supposed the man was better than a completely empty bench. "Especially if I don't make it out of this one. You better damn well make an effort to hear him."

James's hardened features softened, his dark eyes reflecting the tiniest hint of something Jack read as real regret. "I think we both know if you don't make it out of this mission, Dalton, I will be the last person my son will be speaking to. He'll head for parts unknown, and unlike with Puerto Rico, they'll be no coaxing him back."

Even if in that moment they hadn't been interrupted by the distinct sound of the locked door to their cell being opened, Jack couldn't have gathered the energy to dispute the very real truth of what James was proposing. He'd said earlier that it wasn't a competition between them, and although those words had been in jest and about the beating Jack had taken, the sad matter of fact was Jack knew in his heart he did feel as if he were competing with James MacGvyer.

However as men entered their cell, weapons drawn, and James helped him to his feet, supporting almost all of his weight, Jack couldn't even muster one ounce of smug indignation or as much as a tad of gloating at the fact Oversight not only realized the competition between them but also acknowledged who was likely to be the winner. On the contrary, all Jack could feel was a heavy sorrow, knowing it was a very real possibility that Mac was about to lose both men. And the saddest part of all was that no one gained any damn prize in that scenario, especially not the person who mattered most-Mac.

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7

Nature versus Nurture

By: Ridley

A/N: So this is not the whole story…but I am getting the next to the last chapter in just barely under the wire! Whew. Thanks to Mary who took the time to edit although she is in the middle of medical exams and to all those who took the time to comment. I will get back to answering you. I can't wait to hear what you think of the show tonight. I'm trying to be optimistic. Yay. PS...Science is hard-I make it up.

RcJ

 _"Nativists believe in the idea that genetics determines everything not just your hair and eye color, but also your personality and abilities. Nuturists believe that what you were exposed to aas a child-both physically and emotionally-shape who you ultimately become. But the truth is, both sides are correct. Our genes influence our behavior, and our behavior influences our genes. And our life experiences are what activates or silences all of it." – Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_

If Mac was completely honest, he would confess that the work on KX7 was fascinating. There was something about being in a lab with the potential of creating something groundbreaking that called to the deepest recesses of his foundation and basic nature. Beakers, microscopes and centrifuges were familiar old friends.

He loved his work at Phoenix, in the field with Jack and their team, but sometimes felt a longing to return to his beginnings more often than he was allowed by the cover projects he undertook at the foundation. If not for the constant threat he was under, the worry for Jack and his father, it would have been a bit like coming home for a visit. There was also the fact he was working on a project that wasn't his, but one that was the brain child of James MacGyver.

Since discovering his father's research on KX7 Mac had purposively chosen not to look too closely at the man's tome of statistics and theories, the analytics and early experiments. Studying a scientists thought processes was intimate, like picking up a person's private journal, peeking into a coach's playbook, or more along the lines of the time he'd opened Nana Beth's Bible and glimpsed all the handwritten prayers in the margin.

Mac's name had stood out in one of Jack's grandmother's penned thoughts, and he'd resisted the urge to read it. Not that he necessarily considered it a violation of privacy, because he knew the woman well enough to know she would have read it to him herself if given half the chance, but more afraid perhaps- as he was with looking too closely at his father's carefully constructed words- that he might be made aware of some facet of himself he wasn't quite ready to face.

Unquenchable thirst for knowledge aside, Mac understood he wasn't all that keen on delving too deeply into his own psyche, or that of his fathers it seemed. The prospect of studying James MacGyver's notes provided too personal a glimpse into the soul of the person he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Mac apparently preferred the preconceived notion of who James MacGyver might be, the one Mac held tightly to from his years as a child instead of discovering a connection he couldn't deny. The past eight hours had left him no choice but to face his fears and delve into his father's insights.

Mac ran a bruised hand through his hair, blowing out a slow breath while blinking the microscope back into focus. His ribs gave another painful twinge at the movement, helping him to concentrate on the here and now.

Aside from the fact Mac's father was indeed brilliant, far more chemist than Mac considered himself, there was the underlying undeniable truth that the serum itself was potentially beneficial. Mac found that he was easily caught up in Sabrina Green's enthusiasm for the project. She was a good sound scientist, but an even better marketing genius. Sabrina painted pictures where lives were saved and soldiers were spared. Mac couldn't help but to remember times when he would have given anything to have access to a miracle serum that would have helped Jack or one of his Delta team.

"Just think of the ramifications of such a product, Angus," she'd told Mac as they'd begun their initial run through. "You've been a soldier, you have witnessed firsthand the toll war takes on a body, the demands are at a threshold that can't be managed by sheer will alone." Her smile had been bright, and he could briefly entertain his father's possible attraction to her. He had, after all, whether he'd ever admit it to Jack, envisioned a possible closer relationship with Cage. "KX7 is a game changer."

Mac's lack of comment had not discouraged her in the beginning. She'd continued spouting statistics about Special Forces specifically, obviously hoping to engage him on a personal level, although the mere mention of the illegal drug use that sometimes permeated SEAL and DELTA units had Mac even more unwilling to talk with her. Heroin, cocaine, and prescription grade pain medicines were more common place than anyone wanted to admit. A blind eye was often turned when the mission was made a priority over the health of those undertaking the job, but Mac wasn't about to malign any of his fellow soldiers. Sabrina was right about one thing though. War demanded more of a body than was fair and Mac had witnessed too many men and women willing to give everything to the cause-including Jack.

"I don't think you've maintained the margins here." They had gone hours in blessed silence except for the necessary comments needed about levels and rudimentary adjustments to the mixture. Sabrina had seemed content to let him lead, taking her position as lab assistant extremely well. Mac wasn't chauvinistic by any means. He'd played Sabrina's role for Frankie at MIT many times, but in this situation he needed to feel in control, for several reasons. One being the fact he was working with armed guards looking over his shoulder, but mostly because he was responsible for creating a drug that was to be used on his best friend.

He lifted his head from the microscope and study of a slide to stare at Sabrina, one brow raised in question. She was contemplating the computer monitor. "By changing the margins, I have decreased the likelihood that the recipient will suffer a myocardial episode."

Sabrina frowned, her eyes still on the monitor, calculating. "And in doing so decreased the potency of the serum greatly."

Mac sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I've shaved off some of the flash, true, but the drug is still remarkable in that in blocks pain receptors and combats exhaustion. Those are the two biggest enemies of the wounded soldiers you say you want to help." Mac could rattle off a list of reactions to pain-all of which the body used to protect itself and promote healing and were extremely beneficial in everyday life-that were a hindrance in combat. Acute, intense pain from a burn, gunshot wound or break, increased blood pressure, caused respiratory distress, anxiety and fear, often sending the wounded person into shock. As if on cue the throbbing pain in his head Mac had successfully shoved back in a far corner of his brain reappeared to make his point immediate. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

When she only studied him with her cool blue gaze Mac rushed to continue in a more scientific manner. "Pain is a noxious stimulus, a stressor that threatens homeostasis. The body's reaction to it is a complex, adaptive response. My father was mostly masking it with stress-induced analgesia, but I've gone one step further and interrupted transduction by chemically incapacitating nociceptors."

"But James's chemical eliciting and simulating stress-induced fight or flight response goes beyond merely making the subject feel better," she pointed out knowledgeably, pushing her hair behind her ear. "It increased strength and stamina exponentially."

"It also killed every test subject it has been used on." Mac gestured to the side by side monitors where past data was displayed so it could be compared to the chemical analysis of the synthetic they had modulated and the computer simulations they had run. Adrenaline was crucial to a body's survival. It allowed one to continue fighting a threat when cornered or gave one the ability to walk away from a car wreck after being critically injured or lift said vehicle off of another. It was also only meant to be temporary and was precisely regulated by the body's medulla and adrenal glands. "That's where the cortisol levels come in to play. Dad had them way off, allowing for too much which caused a feedback loop in the hypothalamus." He took a deep breath, feeling his ribs protest. After so many hours of minimal movement he felt stiff and as if he had bruises on top of bruises which probably wasn't that far from the truth.

"But we _want_ the hypothalamus to fail to limit the flight or fight response…" Sabrina tried to interject, her brows drawing together in a dark look of stubbornness.

Mac was quick to match her tenacity, continuing his explanation. "Yes, we want to increase the stress response, to flood the body with catecholamines, but if you dose someone with too much adrenaline and noradrenaline, even someone completely healthy and uninjured, their heart is going to give out under the strain." Mac made a gesture back to the monitors. "The levels of epinephrine you've been creating can't be maintained as proven by your mortality rate. To continue down that same path is counter-intuitive and counter-productive to what you're trying to establish, which is a drug that will sustain soldiers. What good is two minutes of brute force, if the soldier dies before he can complete any mission?"

"Depends on whether that two minutes of brute force is used to take out an armed guard or maybe even carry out a suicide run to dismantle a stronghold." Jonah spoke up once more with unwanted commentary, stepping closer to Mac and Sabrina.

Mac glared at him. Despite having already received a taste of what asking Jonah to keep his opinions to himself would warrant, a backhand for instance, Mac responded. "If you were the man that was going to run that gambit, I might concede it a calculated risk, but seeing as how my partner is going to undergo the first go around-a fact your quick to remind me of- I'd rather use common sense than any Neanderthal notions." Mac clenched his fists. "I won't play Russian Roulette with Jack."

The rogue agent made a move towards Mac, but Sabrina intervened by stepping between them. "He has a point, Jonah. As you have already discovered, if the drug is not stable, then no one is going to want to buy it."

"We've touted this as a super soldier serum, Rina. That's what our potential clientele are expecting, including Gomez, who although not on par with you geniuses, is quite capable of figuring out we're merely producing a good multi-vitamin where we promised the fucking Fountain of Youth." Walsh crossed and uncrossed his arms over his huge chest.

"That's not true." Mac was surprised that he found himself feeling offended. After all he'd only been on the project for the last nine hours, but still his pride reared its head. "This serum is beyond anything that's being mass produced on the market. Mostly because it would never be approved by the FDA but partly because it does do to some degree what you've promised it can." Mac raked both hands through his hair with a sigh. His father's initial research had been sound, well thought out it. The problem came when he pushed for more of what Jonah called 'flash'. Sometimes subtle and practical was best and even if a super serum was possible, it didn't mean it should be allowed to exist. The atom bomb for instance. Mac's stomach gave a nauseating churn at that thought.

He dug deep for a reserve of patience, his mind briefly drifting back to Jack and his father. "Gravely wounded men aren't supposed to be able to continue to function beyond an initial burst of adrenaline, Walsh. You and I both have seen soldiers perform feats of inhuman strength, but typically they can only maintain that for a brief window. This version of KX7 not only masks the pain of their injuries but gives them a much longer sustaining stamina."

"You're saying it's not like punching a tank for a nitrous boost but more like a long lasting fuel injection." Jonah folded his arms over his bulking chest again, still looking skeptical. "Let me be clear by saying this better be more than a glorified energy cocktail, Mini Mac."

"My modifications aren't going to hulk anyone out like what happened in your failed attempts if that's what you're asking, but it also won't kill them." Mac suppressed a shudder. He couldn't quite get the images of the recordings of men being shot then injected with the original KX7 out of his mind. He only imagined what other scenarios Sabrina had entertained and subjected victims to. He kept his eyes locked with Walsh's. "It will keep a soldier who should by all intents and purposes be out of the game on the playing field. Their performance will be at a peak, optimal level even if it's in their best interest not to perform. Although it's not on par with a 'super soldier' serum it will give an advantage to whomever has access."

"So if a man is worked over, wounded, sick with a fever, this is going to get his feet back under him." Jonah ran a finger thoughtfully over his goatee.

"It should." Mac didn't like the new gleam in Jonah's dark gaze. It felt a little like he had personally delivered a lamb to the slaughter.

"I guess we'll see." Jonah now smiled in a way that had Mac's stomach knotting, heart pounding. "Gomez wants this wrapped up. He intends for us to be Oscar Mike before full daylight, which means your daddy and his wind-up Delta are on their way over."

"But the drug isn't ready," Mac argued, feeling his panic clawing itself from the tightly closed compartments he'd secured it in. He sent a desperate glance to Sabrina hoping to appeal to the scientist in her, possibly for some sort of support, but realized his folly when she merely averted her eyes to the monitor, almost bored so it seemed. "We've only begun running computer simulations," Mac insisted, returning his gaze to Walsh, fighting to keep the desperation out of his eyes and voice. "The data is insufficient, nowhere near ready for a test trial."

"The test was always going to be whether Dalton survived, kid. He's in a bad shape and if these new tweaks you've added bring him round then we'll count that as a step in the right direction. If he dies, then we've just wasted a night and we'll move on to another location before Phoenix gets lucky and turns up. Live to fight another day and all that jazz" Jonah shrugged, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"There is no acceptable scenario in which my partner doesn't survive," Mac seethed, his fingers curling into tight fists. "I'm not helping you if that happens. You'll have to kill me, too."

"That's not such a big loss now considering you claim to have stabilized the serum." Jonah nodded towards Green and Mac realized all their secret whispering sessions had been leading up to this revelation. "Sabrina's been with you every step of the way. She's quite confident she can take it from here if need be."

Mac wanted to send a sweeping arm across the stainless steel tables, send their work clattering to the floor in a display of rebellion but his attention was quickly diverted to the entrance where several more of Gomez's men had just filed in. James MacGyver was shoved in behind them, followed by Jack who was mostly hanging limp between two armed escorts.

"Jack." Mac almost expected Walsh to grab him, but instead stood aside as Mac made his way to his father and partner. The men holding Jack had released him. Jack, not being able to hold his own weight had gone to his knees, head bent forward, chin almost resting on his chest. James had knelt beside him and appeared to be keeping him upright with a grip on his shoulder.

"What happened?" Mac demanded, his voice sharper than he had intended to. He knew his father was not to blame, but unable to miss the fact Oversight only had minor cuts and bruises where as Jack looked as if he'd been drug behind a truck.

"Gomez." James said, glancing from Mac to his former teammates. When he returned his gaze to his son, there was a mixture of emotions Mac couldn't quite read, but the unfamiliar emotion made his stomach twist tighter. "He wasn't pleased with what transpired in Mexico and seemed to have the impression Dalton was to blame."

"Hey, kid." Jack lifted his head slowly when Mac pressed a hand against this neck, fingers resting at the base of his throat to find a racing pulse. Mac rolled his eyes when the older man gave him a quick wink with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. "Bad guys still like me best."

"Are you okay?" The question was ridiculous and they both knew it, but Mac couldn't stop himself. "You look awful."

Jack made an attempt to straighten up, holding himself in a way that caused him to go a shade paler, which was quite a feat considering beneath the smeared blood, Jacks face was the color of paper."Here I was about to compliment your lab coat."

"Dad?" Mac's gaze moved to his father, demanding some kind of explanation even though he could see for himself his partner was in bad shape, could feel the heat pouring off the older agent through his damp shirt. Small shivers were sending minute tremors along Jack's muscular frame.

"He has a fever and probably internal injuries." James eyes met Mac's before moving past him to glance to his former team.

"You whip up anything that might make me feel better while playing mad scientist?" Jack's question was an attempt at humor, but the wet coughs that followed had Mac's grip on his neck tightening. The compromised respiratory was not something he had counted on. And by the look of it this seemed serious, far worse than it had been eight hours before. Jack had doubled over slightly, brows drawn together in pain, James's hand probably the only thing that kept Jack from going down completely.

"Either that or it could just as easily kill you." Mac let his hand reluctantly slide from Jack's neck, swallowing back on the emotions that threatened to bubble up. He'd seen Jack hurt plenty. Iraq, Cairo, countless other missions. It never got easier, but this situation seemed more difficult, whether that was due to the guilt Mac was feeling for having shut his best friend out of his life over the last weeks or whether it was because James MacGyver was present and watching he wasn't sure. Mac only knew that it took all his restraint to remain calm and collected. He managed a half grin, feeling the cut on his lip pull. "This isn't your typical Jack Dalton 'hulking out'."

"Good thing I trust you, brother." Jack straightened slowly, wheezing. He held Mac's his gaze, the sympathetic, knowing expression almost Mac's undoing.

"I might not deserve it," he managed around the hard lump at the back of his throat. There was so much earnestness in Jack's fever-bright eyes. Mac was certain he didn't warrant such faith.

"You finished the drug?" James reached out and gripped Mac's wrist not too gently, jolting him from the moment of self- recrimination, something akin to panicked disbelief in his voice. "Tell me you didn't give them what they wanted, Angus."

Mac looked down at his father's long fingers wrapped around his arm, and then held the man's gaze shielding every emotion that had come rushing to the surface at the touch. "I did what I had to do."

"Damn it, son."

Mac let the anger at what Jack had suffered push away any lingering sense that he had somehow disappointed his father and the stupid reality that he even still dared to care about such a prospect. "What did you expect me to do, Dad?"

"Improvise?" James quipped. He released his hold, running a hand over his face. "Isn't that your default?"

"It's not so easy to improvise when I'm in the laser sights of your former Overwatch." Mac made sure to keep his voice down even though Jonah had kept his distance, still huddled with Sabrina. The guards had moved only so far as the door. "I did manage to improve on the formula you started so I might have bought us some time. There was also a small opportunity to create a few more mixtures. Ones that I wouldn't suggest anyone ingesting."

"I know that look," Jack said hoarsely, fighting to stay upright on his own. He glanced to James, blinking as if to focus properly. "Something's going to go boom."

"A distraction will not help if back-up isn't on scene." James brow furrowed. "I'm worried Phoenix may have gotten a late start. If Carlos wasn't able to…"

"Carlos would have found a way back to them," Mac interrupted, not willing to allow for any other possible scenarios for his old friend. An unwanted picture of a giant alligator flashed through his spinning thoughts and Mac blinked, refusing to give in to the type of scenario Jack might conjure.

"And if the troops don't show, I'll just use Mac's miracle mix to take out the biggest threat."

Mac didn't like the determined glassy-eyed gaze his partner sent in Jonah's direction. His partner might know all his tells, but Mac was just as cognizant of Jack's crazy look. The older agent didn't need a bomb to bring chaos into a situation and blow everything to hell. He could be a human grenade.

"This drug isn't going to allow you to walk through a barrage of bullets like some Walking Dead zombie, Jack. It will probably make you feel a lot better really fast, but it won't make you invincible."

"I already got one MacGyver lecture on why soldiers should stay mostly human." Jack coughed deeply. He cut his glassy gaze to James and then back to Mac. He offered a half smile. "How about I promise I'll try not to get too dead that you two can't bring me back, kid?"

"That sounds like a damn good DELTA motto, Dalton," Jonah spoke up, now standing close enough to hear their conversation. Mac noticed the two vials he had in his hand, one needle already uncapped. "What do you say, Mini Mac? You ready to prove how much smarter you are than your daddy?"

"Jonah, this little show isn't necessary." James stood, placing himself between Walsh and Mack and Jack. "The drug will kill him, and then where will you be? One more murder charge to face, that of a federal agent no less. Even I won't be able to spare you the death penalty."

Jonah ran finger and thumb down his goatee, looking genuinely speculative. "Wow, Jimmy, I'm not sure if you're just so completely arrogant that you believe no one could improve on your work or that you're just certain that baby boy isn't as bright as you." Jonah laughed, a bitter sneer twisting his features. "Who am I kidding? I know how arrogant you are. I just didn't think you'd insult your own kid."

"On the contrary, I think my son is remarkable." James propped his hands on his hips. "He was working with flawed research. Surely you didn't think I'd leave my completed notes in any one system. You've not been able to complete this serum because you've never had the correct information to do so."

"I told you I thought we were missing information." Sabrina actually laughed. "The fact you've never once outsmarted James should have been our first clue."

James turned his gaze to Mac. "Whatever you believe you've fixed, son, it won't be enough. The serum is flawed."

"Because of the feedback loop." Mac tilted his head, watching as his father's eyes widened. He found his heart starting to pound again, his stomach twisting. "I found it, although I thought you'd just miscalculated and..."

"And he fixed it." Sabrina chirped, hands clasped in smug satisfaction. "You two really are quite a match. So much for all that nurturing rubbish. Despite having not been brought up under our smothering attentions, our children have grown into even better versions of us. Angus could have sprung from your head completely formed, James."

Mac would have taken the time to point out several fallacies in Sabrina Green's hypothesis if not for Jonah taking the opportunity to slam a fist into his father's face.

"Dad?" Mac moved out of instinct, his gut clenching as he watched his father drop hard. He tried to step between Oversight and Walsh, willing to offer whatever protection he could. That was when he realized Jack, although hurt and sick, had been exaggerating his condition. His partner was on his feet in a move that was nowhere near as smooth as he typically managed, but one that still allowed him to quickly pull Mac out of the way, his hold unyielding and more restraining than he should have been able to manage.

"That's for always thinking you're so much damn smarter than me." Jonah spat at James, who had stayed on his knees but was swaying slightly. James swiped a hand over his bleeding lip.

"And that's enough of the boyish antics." Sabrina clapped. "This is all very déjà vu but I'd rather we actually move forward instead of replaying an old tiresome reel."

"What exactly do you think is going to happen, Sabrina?" James rubbed his jaw, shaking his head at the woman. "If Mac's drug proves stable, do you really think Jonah is going to let any of us walk out of here? Are you willing to be a party to murder? My murder? What about when your part in this is finished? You think he's going to share the profits with you."

"Once again you underestimate me, James. Jonah didn't recruit me into this little venture." Sabrina's gaze was hard now, cold even. She took a step closer to James. "It was the other way around. I offered him sanctuary when you were the one to cast him aside. It seems Samuel wasn't the only one on our team you considered affordable collateral damage."

"I didn't cast him aside." James stood, his gaze going to Walsh. Mac witnessed an unfamiliar pleading in his father's dark eyes, even a hint of remorse. "I would have gotten you back into the country, Jonah. You didn't even give me a chance to try. You should have trusted me."

"Forgive me if the two month stretch I pulled in that Siberian hell hole makes it hard to swallow one more of your lies, _partner_."

The word partner was spat like poison and Mac felt Jack's hold marginally tighten on him as he pulled him ever so slightly closer to his chest and away from the melee. He could hear his best friend's labored breathing, feel the way the older agent leaned on him as much as held him back. That close Mac could feel the minute shivers had increased. He could also feel the amount of heat that was radiating off of Jack in waves and he wasn't so sure anymore if Jack had really exaggerated or if this was just one of those adrenaline fueled bursts which he had recently discussed with Walsh and Green.

"What's going on here?" Luis Gomez's sudden appearance into the fray managed to crank the tension a notch higher.

"Good you're here." Sabrina practically purred. She weaved past Jonah and James ignorant of their stare off, smirking at Mac as she brushed a hand over Gomez's shoulder. "We were just about to start the trial."

Gomez's gaze went to Walsh, eyes narrowing. "I told you we would be leaving within the hour. I hope that this will not once more be a waste of my time."

"I can guarantee you this will be worth your extreme show of patience, Luis." Sabrina turned towards Walsh, gaze cold. "Right, Jonah?"

"Right." Jonah reluctantly stepped away from his stand off with James. He gestured to his guards who surrounded Mac and Jack. One of them reached for Mac and he spun out the way, turning to face his partner.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault." He'd been a brat, running off to Puerto Rico. Running away from everyone instead of standing and dealing with his father like an adult. Now he was at risk to lose everything that had ever truly mattered.

"It's not your fault, bud. None of this is on you." Jack tried to pull away from the men who now flanked him. He reached out and caught the tail end of Mac's shirt, giving it a tug to make sure the other man was paying attention. "It's okay, Angus. We'll be okay."

"Should I do it? Or do you want the honors, baby boy?" Jonah held up the needle, a twisted sneer of satisfaction on his face.

"As you can see," Sabrina started to narrate and Mac felt his pulse kick into overdrive. His stomach lurched and he was certain he was going to be sick. "Our subject is barely able to stand on his own," Green continued as if she were explaining a sales pitch. "He's had no food or water for days, suffering from multiple stab wounds, a severe concussion, and possible internal injuries, a high grade fever and respiratory distress mimic the adversities that could befall any man in combat…."

Mac let Sabrina's public relations spiel fade to the background, realizing with another wave of nausea it had been Walsh's intention to create their own perfect storm. "We could add a bullet wound if you want?" Jonah broke in, his sick smile telling Mac he was enjoying the younger man's reaction.

"No!" Mac schooled his features, pulling himself together, he could play this game as well. "His condition is dire enough to prove the drug works. That's all you need."

"Alright then." Sabrina smiled coolly. "Let's proceed."

Mac took the syringe from a grinning Jonah, willing his hands not to shake. He started for his partner, who was now being held between two of Walsh's men. Jack gave Mac another slight nod, a silent permission that he knew Mac needed but would never be able to ask for. Even with his partner's acquiescence Mac had to work hard at stopping his hand from shaking as he gripped his best friend's wrist and prepared to inject the serum. He held his breath. This felt terribly wrong on so many levels. An unbidden picture of HYDRA's Winter Soldier flashed in Mac's mind and he blamed Jack for the images of him as the next Avenger.

Before he could insert the needle into a vein, a thunderous blast from above shook the foundations of the lab. Debris fell from the ceiling. Sabrina let out a small yelp as another shock wave rolled through the room, doing as Mac had hoped to do earlier and sending equipment crashing to the floor.

"Damn it," Gomez shouted. "What the hell is going on?" His men started to buzz around him, demanding explanations into radios, sheltering their boss in a protective stance, weapons drawn.

Mac jerked his head up as his father rushed the two men closest to him. He met Jack's gaze, pulling the needle away from his arm. He started to step away, only to find himself promptly grabbed by Walsh, the man's big arm wrapped around his neck like a python, successfully cutting off Mac's air.

"No you don't, Mini Mac!"

Jack lunged forward, reaching for him. Mac realized a second too late that his partner was going for the serum. "Jack. NO!"

He watched in horror as Jack grabbed the syringe, stabbing himself in the neck. The former Delta depressed the plunger swiftly without one second's hesitation.

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

Nature versus Nurture

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: Thanks to those who have stuck with this story, who have sent comments. And thanks to Mary who made it much better than it would have been. Please note, science is hard. I made this up. But most of it is plausible…meaning I think it at least has roots in reality, the offshoots however are pure fictional trajectory. There is a little more violence than I generally like, but I felt in this situation it was a by-product of what needed to occur. Read with caution. And let me know what you think!

RcJ

 **" _When someone dies, you can't help but think in terms of last times. The last time you talked with them, the last time you held their hand, the last time you kissed them. But we're learning that we never really lose those last times. They embed themselves in our genes to be carried forward, a quiet memory of people long since forgotten."_**

 ** _–Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose_**

Jack felt the instant the drug hit his system, the way it rushed through his veins. Mac had been clear that the modified KX7 formula was not like the original strain his father had created. Maybe it was because Jack's own fight or flight system had kicked into overdrive the moment Jonah Walsh had grabbed Mac, but the jolt Jack received from the injection seemed to prove it every bit as potent as the one he'd watched administered to the not so lucky test subjects. Jack felt unstoppable.

Looking back Mac might have insisted that part of what Jack experienced was placebo effect, mostly in his mind and conjured by a will that was inexorable when someone Jack loved was in danger, because Mac used words like inexorable. Jack had once looked it up. It meant relentless, unchangeable, and uncompromising. Damned if the kid didn't really get Jack. But right now Mac being spot on when it came to all things Dalton didn't matter. Though Jack would have to admit he _was_ thinking about the Winter Soldier and Captain America as he stabbed himself with the needle. Whatever the true cause, Jack was grateful for the turbo boost that helped bring him back from the brink of collapse.

The overwhelming pain he'd been warring with only moments before faded in the rush of a liquid fire that seemed to sweep through his system like a wave. It didn't hurt so much as surprise, sort of like that initial moment when a boy might unknowingly latch onto an electric fence because his eight year old buddy dared him to do it. Even Jack's lungs which had been sluggish and heavy appeared to lighten and open as if they'd suddenly filled like a balloon, allowing him the firsts energizing breaths he'd had in hours. His head felt clearer, the dizziness vanishing.

Jack didn't think about the reprieve being mostly illusory, but did remember Mac said it would be temporary. Even if the 'feel good' component hadn't kicked in to take his mind off whatever consequences might follow when the inevitable crash came, Jack was too focused on saving Mac to give it too much consideration. His boy was in trouble and he had to act. He honestly didn't consider his own safety, a point Mac would no doubt drive home repeatedly when they were safe.

Walsh's remaining soldiers, the ones not hell bent on getting Gomez to higher ground nor the two fighting with James, rushed Jack. He barely heard Mac shout his name, fleetingly saw the younger man struggle in Walsh's tight chokehold, before he merely gave himself over to honed instinct. His close quarter combat skills were unmatched on a good day and he found his reflexes heightened by the euphoric state he was experiencing as being released from crippling pain coupled with Mac's feel good juice to make him almost giddy. Never a man to deny his feelings, Jack went with it. Walsh's men were no match and he soon found himself stepping over two of the corpses, barely out of breath, a gun triumphantly secured in his hand, one he pointed directly at Jonah's sweet spot.

"Let the kid, go," Jack demanded, voice hard. His gaze briefly met Mac's, before finding Jonah's again. "Now."

"Damn, Mini Mac," Walsh laughed, backing up and dragging Mac with him. "I think you might have outdone yourself with the tweaking of your daddy's formula. You're going to make me a rich man."

"Jack." Mac's voice was strained, breathless. He fought Jonah's grasp, but the man's arm was firmly around his throat, his gun dug in the kid's side deep enough it'd leave a bruise.

Jack blinked. He was pretty sure he could feel his heart thrumming through his trigger finger, making it difficult to hold back and focus. He needed Mac away from Walsh – now. "I said let him go."

"Or what? You really going to risk shooting me? Even if I'm not fast enough to get a shot off I could twitch and pull the trigger in my death throws. Your boy's going to have a hell of a hole in his kidney." Jonah grinned and Jack's finger twitched, itching to erase that self-confident grin from the bastard's face. "Even a shot of the original KX7 isn't going to keep him from bleeding out. Trust me. I know."

The mention of Jonah's evil experiments only revved Jack's senses further. The bastard was bad on several levels-like Murdoc bad- and the thoughts of what he might do to Mac were hard to keep in check. Jack didn't need one more thing to crank him up. He was already bursting with energy, charges of it pulsing in his fingertips, making him hyper aware of the cold metal in his hand.

"Just back off and let us get out of here. Me, Regina, and her lap top," Jonah continued, as if he was unaware of the danger he was courting each time he caused Mac to flinch. "And I'll set baby boy free as soon as I've made it past the swarm of Phoenix agents that are bound to be waiting up top."

"Jack..." Mac choked, his fingers clawing at Jonah's meaty arm that was still wrapped around his neck like a python. "Don't…"

"You're not walking out of here with him _or_ the formula." Jack knew Mac was probably more concerned about the modified KX7 falling into the wrong hands than he was his own safety. Jack had a singular mission as well, but understood that the kid would never forgive himself if he believed he'd aided Walsh. Jack shifted his grip on the gun, steadying it, still fully focused on Jonah's head. He was going to have to talk to Mac about ways he might combat the fact KX7 messed with a man's control, made him feel twitchy as hell.

For all the people who liked to think Jack was a hothead, it was actually his ability to be cool and collected in the face of death that offered him an advantage over most. It's what made him an excellent sniper. Right now though he was empathizing a bit with a toddler who'd been nursing on a bottle of Starbucks brew all night. There was a reason he stayed away from caffeine when he was working.

"I'm afraid you're the one who won't be leaving this place, Agent Dalton."

Jack turned his head just enough to see the lovely Sabrina Green standing off to his right, gun pointed directly at him, finger at the trigger. It seemed she more than likely realized her only way out of the mess was right behind Jonah and his living shield. Jack was pretty sure she also saw him as the only thing standing in her way and as a woman who knew how to get around a stumbling block, was likely not to take a chance on a bluff. He was also sure taking a direct hit, mass center, even from her small caliber special, was not something Mac's formula was going to protect him against. It was like Jonah had taunted. Adrenaline and whatever the hell else James MacGyver had concocted to keep a soldier on his feet and crank out the last tinge of usefulness from him wasn't going to restart a heart, even if Jack had secretly had nightmares about zombies for weeks after viewing the footage of KX7's illegal trial runs. Jack was about to shift his gun from Walsh to Green when she pulled the trigger.

"No!" Mac's shout and the gunshot rang out simultaneously. Jack was barely cognizant of his partner's renewed struggling, long legs kicking out in an attempt to somehow break free from Jonah. Jack wasn't surprised he didn't feel the fiery tear of the bullet, after all he was comfortably confident someone could run him through with a broadsword and it might just seem no more troublesome than a prick from one of Nurse Sally's sinister needles. But the blossom of bright red on Sabrina's pristine white shirt caused him to blink, tightening his fingers around his gun. Her lovely face registered her own confusion, then pain, then nothing at all.

"Now that was a surprise," Jack muttered, not truly understanding Mac's panicked gaze. Big blue eyes went from him to stare somewhere off to his left, the exact direction Jonah had swung his own weapon.

Jack didn't take heed of where the other man might be aiming, only that he'd apparently been as caught off guard by Sabrina's end as everyone else. Jarred enough that he made a fatal error, moving his gun off the kid. Sure the bastard still had a death grip on Mac, but he'd taken away the immediate danger of putting a hole in the boy. It was the only incentive Jack needed, a small smile playing around his mouth.

Instead of firing, Jack flipped the rifle in his hand, swinging it like a ball bat. The crack was like thunder and not only did Walsh drop the gun before firing and release Mac, he fell like Goliath bested by a God-powered pebble flung from a boy's slingshot.

Jack panicked slightly when Mac went down beneath the bastard behemoth, but the kid was already pushing Walsh's dead weight off him and squirming out before Jack could streamline his thoughts enough to decipher exactly what to do next. All his systems, not just his reflexes were amped and it took him a second longer than usual to sweep the room for additional threats. Jack could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing quickening. Blood was rushing in his ears as he searched for his next target.

"Stand down, Dalton." Oversight's order was surprisingly calm, purposively quieter than usual due to the fact he was more than likely aware of Jack's lack of need for anymore sensory input.

Jack turned to see his boss holding a rifle, muzzle pointed at Jonah's unmoving form. The fact he'd killed Sabrina was quite clear, but still staggering. It was a bizarre sight to see the man with a gun, and Jack realized he'd just assumed that like Mac, his father was also vehemently opposed to weapons that gave one opponent unfair advantage over another. Of course, while in Mexico the man had head-butted a prisoner and knocked him unconscious, seemingly without a second thought.

"The sector is secure, threats eliminated," Oversight added, nodding to the new people that had flooded into the hidden lab. "Your mission's complete."

Jack's brain buzzed with thoughts about Gomez and the men in familiar tac suits that now stormed in, but they were like a swarm of gnats compared to his greatest concern, his only mission. Mac's welfare was bumble bee size in comparison, hell, maybe even bird-like, and not some sparrow either, like an eagle or …

"Jack? You okay, big guy?" Jack's head jerked, totally lost in his spiraling thoughts. He met Mac's worried gaze.

He tried for a smile, but it may as well have come out as a snarled grimace. "I'm pretty sure I'm high as a kite, dude."

Mac's mouth twitched. His face was bruised and he looked tired, weary even, but Jack noted that his partner's eyes were clear although filled with concern. "You're not high, Jack." Mac placed a hand on his arm, used the other one to carefully take the gun from him. The concerned look deepened. "The compound has chemically shut down pain receptors. You're drunk on relief."

"The epinephrine is also a buzz," James added, voice clinical. "Check his pulse, Angus. His breathing rate is elevated and his pupils are blown. He's sweating all over the place."

"I can see that," Mac ground out and Jack could see that his partner hadn't planned on verbally recanting a list of what was obviously going on with the former Delta, nor was he in a place to take orders from his father.

"Is my ticker going to give out, bud?" Jack asked, only half joking, wiping sweat from his eyes, his hand shaking. He tried to calm his breathing, but found that he couldn't. The organ in question was thundering against his chest, but Jack couldn't recall ever feeling better even though he was pretty sure he might ought to have been more worried considering he was pretty sure he'd reopened the knife wound in his shoulder, the subsequent ones on his side.

"No." Mac shook his head, though Jack could easily make out the lines of concern on the younger man's face. "We'll get a medic…"

"Mac!" Carlos's voice interrupted whatever thought the kid was about to spout. Jack nearly jumped out of his skin as the other man jogged over to them, clamping a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Damned if it isn't good to see you two."

"It's good to see you, too, Carlos. I thought you might have been eaten by gators." Mac gave the other man a relieved smile, but Jack didn't miss the lines of worry that still pinched around his partner's eyes. "Maybe you could tell us how you pulled this rescue off while you help me get Jack up top."

"Are you hit?" Carlos's smile faded beneath a deep frown as he swept a closer gaze over Jack, drawing in a sharp breath. "Damn, you look like shit, Dalton. You're bleeding all over the fucking place."

"I'm fine, but Mac…" Jack ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to scratch his itching scalp. A tiny voice in his head reminded him that there was a reason everyone was looking at him as if he was about to drop, but they were wrong. He was fine. Energy was thrumming through his body. His priority was Mac.

"Don't start," Mac cut him off, glaring at Carlos who had returned his gaze to the younger man. "I've got some cuts and bruises, but nothing that some Ibuprofen and sleep won't fix."

Jack blinked, his traveling gaze switching to Oversight who seemed to be watching the commotion around them, but was still standing close enough to monitor their conversation. He returned his focus to Mac, knowing damned well that the kid was lying. His partner had broken ribs at the least. The bruises on his neck had turned an ugly reddish purple and Jack was sure if he could get his racing thoughts to settle for a moment, they'd have pinged on the possibility that the kid might have internal injuries that needed immediate treatment.

"He's right, Dalton," Carlos agreed, moving a step closer to Jack, the same worried frown appearing on his face. "Mac's banged up, but you…how the hell are you still on your feet?"

"He's been dosed with KX7," James motioned to two of Phoenix's tactical team who'd already secured Jonah for transport. "We'll need a medical transport. Director Weber will have a trauma team on the ready."

"For your buddy Walsh's busted skull maybe," Jack snapped at Oversight. Realizing the man was taking over made his blood boil even more. "But I don't need a damn medic." Jack wasn't entirely sure that was true. He was only aware that he wasn't completely ready to stand down, not until he could see Gomez secured with his own eyes and knew Mac was indeed safe, better yet on a plane back to LA.

"How about we talk about it up top?" Mac motioned to the stairs, an almost pleading look in his eyes. "I for one am ready to see the sun."

Jack suppressed the ridiculous need to roll his eyes when the kid tightened his hold on him as if Jack were some fragile grunt. He was pretty sure he could have sprinted up the stone stairway, possibly carrying Mac and Carlos fireman style, one over each shoulder, but thought it might have been counter-productive to his point that he was okay. Showing off his adrenaline primed power was only going to cause Mac to look more wary. The kid was already watching him like he might be one of his unexploded ordinance, so he only only nodded to pacify the kid. It was only his partner's growing anxiety that convinced Jack to at least let one of the medics look him over when they did make it topside and that was only after he indeed witnessed the sweet site of Luis Gomez in restraints and boarded onto a Phoenix manned chopper right alongside an still unconscious Jonah Walsh.

"Is this really necessary?" Jack asked Gentry, one of Oversight's personal medics that staffed his plane.

"His pulse is still 142." The medic ignored his patient, face unreadable as his gaze went from his watch to Mac.

"That bad?" Jack asked, scrubbing a hand over his face, ignoring the shaking that was slowly growing in intensity. His leg jangled, the pent-up energy needing to escape somehow.

"Not if you were currently running from a bear." Carlos said, exchanging a look with Mac. "But you've been sitting down for almost six minutes, brother. What the hell was in that drug?"

"His lungs are heavily congested." The medic looked almost as puzzled as Carlos. "Oxygen levels are not good. The rapid breath isn't helping, but it's like his body is still being dumped with adrenaline."

"That's because it is. Damn it." Mac ran a hand through his hair, watching Jack anxiously from his spot near Carlos. Jack thought the kid looked like he was carrying all the weight of the world on his shoulders and it made him want to strangle James. "Apparently the issue with the feedback loop wasn't as resolved as I hoped. Maybe we should…"

"Why wasn't he loaded in the first chopper and on his way to the hospital?" Speak of the devil, Jack thought snidely as Oversight materialized. James's voice was sharp, his gaze hard and focused completely on Mac as he stepped closer to the small circle surrounding Jack.

"I told you, I'm good." Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting hard to keep his moves calm when all he wanted to do was to release all that energy, possibly directly on James's smug face. Jack flicked his gaze to Mac, noting how the kid was pale under all his bruises and scrapes.

"We're monitoring his vitals, Dad…"

"I want blood work, Angus. And I want his stats catalogued with the appropriate devices. He should have left with the team who took Gomez. I need you to help me gather things in the lab before the Peruvian government intercedes." Oversight crossed his arms over his chest, obviously waiting for everyone to scatter and do as he said.

"What? Why?" Mac narrowed his gaze, glaring up at Oversight. Jack sensed a change in the air around them. "What's with your sudden concern for my partner's well-being and our clean up team can wipe the computers in the lab?"

"My agent has several grievous injuries as well as a bacterial infection," James replied. Even Jack didn't miss the man's subtle redirect. "He's been drugged with a foreign substance and I'm more surprised that his partner _isn't_ a little more concerned for the man's welfare," James continued, meeting his son's gaze with a narrowed one of his own.

"Now wait a minute…" Jack started, brushing away the medic's hovering hands and sitting up straighter at the insinuation.

"This isn't about Jack." Mac's tone changed, his face darkening. Jack didn't need chemically enhanced senses to see that his partner was pissed – pissed as hell actually. Most days the kid was tightly wrapped self-control in flannel, but Jack could see that the frayed edges he'd witnessed over the past weeks were bulging now, in danger of ripping apart. "You're thinking of the serum," Mac accused, voice icy, hands curling into fists. "Now that Jack's heart hasn't burst, you want to observe the effects of KX7 on the first person who's lived longer than two minutes."

James's jaw clenched in a very familiar way. Jack wasn't really surprised that the man didn't seem to understand the tightrope he was walking with the kid. It took someone who actually knew Angus Macgyver to realize when he was at his breaking point. Oversight actually gave his son an indulgent gaze which had been other men's downfall in the past.

"Angus, the fact you managed to apparently stabilize the substance while keeping my original properties is a breakthrough. It would be irresponsible to ignore the implications…" There it was again, the damned matter-of-fact tone Oversight seemed to have perfected. It was a tone that made Jack want to focus all his pent-up energy in one well placed hit.

"You sonofabitch," Mac interrupted indignantly. "What kind of man are you? People died! Your friend died. You s _hot_ her."

"To save _your_ partner's life." James jabbed a finger at Mac, obviously reaching the end of his patience.

Jack tensed, knew his heart rate was kicking up even higher when the medic who had been taking his blood pressure placed a hand on his wrist, a frown darkening his face.

"The only reason my partner was in danger was because of the mess you made, Dad." _Dad_ came out like a curse, and Jack wondered if Mac caught the way his father flinched. If he did, it only served to toss fuel on the fire because his partner doubled down and dug his heels in, hands balled up into fists. "And instead of feeling one ounce of remorse like a regular human being, you want to study him? What is wrong with you? All you care about is furthering your damn research."

Jack tensed, watching Oversight's face color, brows drawn together. The man looked indignant, his unflappable feathers ruffled. Whether his dislike was from being dressed down by an agent in front of Carlos and the medics or the fact that the agent was his kid, Jack wasn't sure, but his failing patience was obvious. It was nothing Jack hadn't witnessed before. He'd seen James MacGyver lose his cool in Mexico, but Jack's Spidey-sense told him this impending explosion may be different, his body ready to charge if the worst might happened.

Heedless of the danger, Mac pushed on, which was exactly why Jack had been doubly concerned for the kid's safety since his father's return. James MacGyver made Mac reckless in a way Jack hadn't witnessed since Nikki had betrayed them. It worried him.

"Mom would be so disappointed in you," Mac breathed, the declaration all the more devastating for quiet way it was wielded. Later Jack would see it in his mind as the equivalent of Mac taking a calm, knowing step right off of a pressure plate he'd activated, understanding better than anyone, but still not giving a shit about the chaos he was about to set loose, a firestorm that would engulf him first and foremost, sending deadly shrapnel flying at anyone in a close radius.

James reaction was instantaneous. His hands shot out lightening quick, wrapping in Mac's shirt, jerking the boy to his feet like he was a ragdoll. Mac's head snapped back as if he'd been slapped and for a minute Jack, stunned, wasn't sure if James had hit the kid.

"Shut your mouth!" James shook the boy, his knuckles turning white against Mac's dirty shirt. "Don't you dare talk to me about her!" He raised a hand as if to strike Mac.

Jack had seen Mac in the hands of the enemy. Hell, it was only the day before when he'd had to watch Jonah Walsh nearly choke the life from the kid, but there was something about James MacGyver daring to lay hands on his son that was worse. The image of Angus's dad crossing some invisible line Jack hadn't even realized he'd drawn in the sand broke something loose in the former Delta. Mac's look of uncharacteristic fear, his stunned intake of breath shattered it properly. And unlike Angus who'd calmly detonated a bomb with one dangerous step, Jack unleashed hell by charging after him into the flames with a battle cry.

He wasn't sure if he shoved Mac free of the bastard first or just plowed a fist into Oversight's face while he still held onto Mac. Either way, Jack sensed the kid was out of the way and while that was good for Mac, it would prove beyond dangerous for James.

"Don't you ever touch him, you sorry sonofabitch." Jack delivered another hard blow. James was on the ground, and Jack followed him down, pinning the struggling man with his weight. Everything…everyone else fell away. Jack's focus which had eluded him up to this point, snapped on line, like chambering a bullet, all his senses narrowed to the prey in his sights. The life in his hands.

"You don't deserve to breathe the same air he does, let alone share a single fucking chromosome." Jack didn't feel his fist connect with his boss's face. He vaguely heard the crunch of cartilage, felt warm blood coat his fist. He was sure James writhed beneath him, struggled to block or offer his own blow, but Jack might as well have been a super soldier for what little good it did the other man in that moment. Right now he did feel a bit like Captain America.

KX7 might have aided, but James had unwittingly given Jack a different secret serum that would shock him out of any state short of death when he'd threatened Mac. He growled, might have even foamed at the mouth for all he knew. Jack felt every bit the wolf with his teeth sunk in the sinew of the elk's throat. "I've been more of a father to him than you will ever be."

The words were ones he'd thought, ones he'd locked away, held back to spare Mac, but also maybe to keep the truth from himself, at a distance that wouldn't reveal his deepest thoughts, his fears. Mac was his family, damn it. In all the ways that mattered. Screw biology. James MacGyver was as bad if not worse than Riley's screw up of a father. Jack had shown Elwood Davis exactly what hurting Jack's kid would get him and he intended to do the same for Oversight. Maybe more. His hands found their way around James's throat almost on their own volition. A vision of Craddock flashed through Jack's mind and he tightened his hold.

Only Carlos had other ideas.

"Dalton! Let him go! Get off, man." There were other hands on Jack now.

"Stand down, Dalton!" Men he'd fought alongside at Phoenix. Maybe Deacon Landry.

It took three of them and Carlos to finally pull him from James, get him off his knees and on his feet, dragging him away from James's broken form. Jack struggled, he still hadn't fully made his point yet.

"Jack! Stop!"

Mac's voice did what the hands holding him back had not. Jack snapped free from the overwhelming rage. He stopped struggling, took a breath, or at least tried to draw air in more deeply. His lungs had other plans, seizing up anytime he attempted anything more than the short hard pants. A deep, wet cough erupted from his chest, leaving him gasping. Jack suddenly felt lightheaded. The world tilted slightly and he felt hands steadying instead of restraining him.

"Mac?"

"I'm here." Mac appeared through the sea of tactical uniforms. His hand resting on Jack's arm, and Jack wondered if the kid would approach a snarling cornered animal with such ease. Jack blinked. He'd talk to him about such carelessness later; that was if he didn't die of a fucking heart attack first. His chest felt like one of his grandfather's racehorses had been set loose behind his sternum, dull pain radiated through his whole body.

"I'm sorry." Jack managed breathlessly, the weight of what he'd just done finally piercing the haze of his fury like sunlight. Oversight was on the ground, bleeding, moaning as other Phoenix tactical agents attended to him. This wasn't a mortal enemy, not even a bad man. No terrorist or murderer. Some sociopath that wasn't worth a bullet. Jack would never be able to return to Phoenix. He'd be lucky not to end up in some jail in Siberia. Worse than that, he'd just pounded James MacGyver in front of his son. Jack was about to run a shaking hand through his short hair but stopped mid-motion when he noticed the bloodied and bruised knuckles. He suddenly felt the monster in the story. "Shit, kid. I….I don't…"

"Take it easy, partner. You just need to breathe. Okay? Just breathe for me." Mac's voice was steady but Jack could see right through him. Mac was terrified.

Jack bent over, hands on his knees. He'd put that look of fear on the kid's face and the ramifications made it impossible to catch his damn breath. Another cough escaped his throat. His best friend might never forgive him. "Your dad…"

"I don't give a shit about Oversight…I just need you to focus on me." The frown on Mac's face deepened, brows drawing together.

"He okay?" Carlos appeared over Mac's shoulder.

Mac's glare spoke volumes and in different circumstance Jack would have laughed at the way Carlos blanched and lifted a hand to ward off any unnecessary reply. The former Ranger even took a step back.

Jack tried to keep his bearings by keeping a bleary one-eyed gaze on Mac, but the kid kept weaving in and out and the former Delta knew he was fading and he wanted to explain. His head was starting to spin, the world tilting. "He hurt you."

Mac must have mistook Jack's piss poor justification for a question because after a quick frown he shook his head, steadying Jack, when the other man listed slightly to one side. "No. He didn't. I'm okay."

Only Jack knew differently. Oversight might not have injured Mac this time around-not physically-because Mac was tough as hell but he'd hurt the kid repeatedly, time and again just the same. Watching him snatch his son up like he was nothing more than some grunt recruit drove the point home. Jack had failed so miserably at protecting his best friend in the wake of finding out James was Oversight. It stirred the growing nauseous feeling in his gut. He hadn't been around when Mac was a boy to save him, but there was no such excuse for Jack not stopping James from twisting the kid up the way he had the last few months.

"I'm sorry, bud," Jack gasped, his legs giving way. He went to one knee, the jar actually sending off a sharp spike of pain through his ribs and his chest, the first he'd felt since he'd injected himself with the KX7. Jack had a feeling Mac's little receptor rerouting was about to correct itself with a vengeance. He blinked, his wavering vision graying around the edges as waves of pain sparked on and off.

"Hang in there, big guy." Mac's hand twisted in the front of Jack's shirt, keeping him upright. Through his blurred vision Jack made out the flash of panic in his partner's blue gaze before the kid swiveled his head and yelled at the men surrounding his father. Jack wasn't sure if giving the kid's dad a beat down was more traumatic or the fact Jack was pretty sure he was dying right in front of him. Damn. "I need a medic over here. Now!"

"Let's get him flat," Carlos took hold of Jack's other arm and started guiding him to the ground. Jack didn't have the energy or muscle control to stop him. He felt a bit like his brain was short circuiting. His muscles had gone to mush. "He's burning up." Carlos's voice was steady, composed, though even in his poor state Jack could hear the barely suppressed fear beneath the words. Carlos thought Jack was dying, too.

Jack managed to reach up and catch the former Ranger's sleeve. His hand shook as his fingers twisted in the material. "Remember…what…we…talked…about." Jack could barely manage to get words out, the task nearly impossible through his gulps of breath. "Watch out for him."

"I remember, Dalton. I won't let you down." Carlos assured and Jack tried to believe him. He coughed, congestion rattling in his chest.

"How about you try not to talk, Jack." Mac leaned over him, pressing his fingers against Jack's throat. His partner managed a half decent smirk. "I know how hard that is for you, Tombstone, but do it for me, okay? Consider it an order."

"I'd…do…anything for you, Shepherd." Jack would probably later regret such a raw confession, felt bad enough now as he watched fear flicker through Mac's eyes again, ruining his attempt at banter. He blinked sluggishly, fighting hard to keep his eyes focused, but darkness was closing in quick.

"Then keep breathing," Mac insisted, his own vulnerabilities emerging as he reached out and gripped Jack's hand. Jack wasn't quite sure why the kid looked so bereft all of a sudden, but then his chest seized, a pain rocked through him. Jack realized he couldn't draw a breath.

"He's in defib," someone shouted.

"Jack! Stay with me! Do you hear me?"

Jack did hear Angus, but panic was making it hard to focus. He tried to reach for the kid, hating the way he sounded somehow impossibly younger, afraid.

"Don't go." Mac sounded far away now too, terrified and panicked. "Do you understand? Jack!"

Mac didn't do afraid, at least not in front of other people. For a moment Jack started to fight again, desperate to help his partner. Where the hell was Carlos? Why wasn't he doing something?

But Jack's body wouldn't cooperate, sputtering out like a plane that's last engine had just given way. He was spiraling in for a crash.

Mac was gone.

Replaced by new faces. They were hovering over Jack, unfamiliar hands touching him. Someone held his arms down, another tore his shirt. Or maybe, Jack thought the tearing sound might have been him actually falling through the veil- the one his Nana Beth talked about sometimes, that dark curtain between life and death.

To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

Nature versus Nurture

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has hung in here all this time. I hope this story has been all you expected. It has been so much fun to write. Special thanks to Gib, 302 Pilot, Only-some-loser, gaelicspirit, Objessions , AZGirl, and the _many_ other fabulous writers in this fandom who not only spend their time sharing their talents here, but also take the time to encourage other writers with their kind reviews.

RcJ

" _No one's ever died of a broken heart. Except why do we have so many phrases that describe the physicality of grief? Heartsick. Heartbroken. Heartache. The heart bears the brunt of our grief, and it takes a toll. Takotsubo cardiomyopathy is a condition that mimics a heart attack. Its cause? Severe emotional or physical stress. Turns out, you can die of a broken heart after all."_

 _\- Julie Clark, Those We Choose._

Mac had dreaded making the phone call, had struggled over the precise words like he might to determine the appropriate scientific formula to dispatch a complex problem. How did you tell someone you cared about that their parent was dead? It was made harder by the fact he was in an emotional limbo himself, a disorienting place he didn't typically find himself, on a precipice without anyway to work himself out of the particular situation. Angus MacGyver did not do well with being at any situation's mercy.

Jack had almost died. He was still in critical condition. There was nothing Mac could influence or determine.

Just thinking about those uncertain minutes in the helicopter ride to Lima, which had actually seemed more like heart-pounding, breath-stopping hours, sent his panic spiraling once more. He had to focus on the present time, count his breaths for a moment, take a second to process the hustle and bustle of the people around him in the hospital cafeteria, before stepping into the main corridor. He counted his steps to the small breezeway, timed them with his breath. Mac even focused on the physical pain from his ribs, the soreness in his muscles, anything to keep him grounded.

His partner had survived, no thanks to Mac, and was in ICU. Still unconscious, but still present. Jack hadn't abandoned him. Despite the doctor's confidence that his best friend would recover, Mac couldn't quite convince himself that he still wouldn't be put in a position to empathize all too well with Samantha Cage, who was now basically an orphan.

He'd almost been relieved when Cage hadn't answered the first time he'd tried to reach her, two days before when they'd made it back to Peru. Matty had offered to make the call, but Mac had insisted he be the one for a couple of reasons. He somehow felt responsible. He knew what Jack would say about that, could practically hear the lecture on how Mac's over-developed sense of responsibility often had him trying to juggle balls that he'd had no hand in setting in motion. Despite the older man's wisdom, sometimes Mac just couldn't help himself. Mac had also hoped Cage might come clean, maybe offer even the briefest of credible explanations as to why she lied, or hid the truth, which to Mac was the same thing. This expectation would have no doubt incurred another talking to from his best friend. Jack would have likely told his partner that expecting some people to be decent and honest was like waiting around, hoping for a duck to roar like a lion.

She'd not answered the first call, or the subsequent three, leaving Mac with no option but to stumble through a simple message for her to call him back ASAP, assuring her that it was important, urgent. He hadn't thought too much more about the impending difficult conversation. It wasn't like they had stayed in touch, although Riley had surprised Mac by confessing that she'd actually reached out to Samantha a few times, though apparently Cage had been remiss in returning the favor and that she hadn't talked to her for a few months. When Mac's phone had rung while in the cafeteria with Carlos, he'd been torn between letting it go to voice mail and losing his place in line. He wasn't even hungry, but the temptation to avoid the inevitable was strong, and Matty had ordered him not to return to Jack's room without a shower and food.

"How'd it go?" Carlos's voice startled Mac from his thoughts. He shifted his body away from the wall he had been leaning against. The hallway he had moved in to was relatively deserted, providing Mac the privacy he'd needed to accept the call, to deliver the blow. His friend, nodded to the phone in Mac's hands, his own hands full with to go bags and two Styrofoam cups of what Mac hoped was coffee. He needed the caffeine, going on far too little sleep and no regular meals. "I figured the way you took off out of there when you got the call that it was your old teammate calling back, Green's daughter?"

Mac nodded. He'd given Carlos a quick debrief on Cage and how their latest mission linked them once more to her in a surprising and tragic turn. Mac met his old friend's gaze, which was filled with concern. "She didn't even seem to care, man."

"That really surprise you, Dude?" Carlos shifted the load in his hand, another worried frown furrowing his brow. It was a familiar look he'd been giving Mac over the last two days. Mac had officially been a patient himself the first twenty-four hours but refused to stay in a room of his own, instead dragging his IV pole with him every chance to ICU. The nurses had finally given up. Matty had charged Carlos-citing he was still her temporary agent- with the task of keeping a close eye on him. Carlos offered him one of the bags and a coffee. "I mean…no disrespect, Mac, but if the situation was reversed, I'm not so sure you'd be all choked up if someone called and told you Oversight bit the big one."

"I don't want anything bad to happen to my father." Mac took the food, realizing he sounded less than convincing, although in his heart he knew he meant what he said. However his tone was devoid of emotion, much like Cage had seemed when she had answered with an 'I see' after Mac told her of her mother's demise. She hadn't jumped in to offer any explanation about her duplicity either, and Mac didn't push. Mother of the year or not, Cage had lost a piece of her life that she would never get back. He'd quickly ended the conversation, Cage telling him she appreciated the heads up and promising they would talk soon. Really talk. Funny Nikki had vowed the same thing, and he'd yet to hear back from her. Mac wasn't going to hold his breath. As Jack would say a duck was a duck, after all.

"I believe that, because you're, well, you're you, Mac, but I'm just saying look how different it is with Jack." Carlos appeared unsure of where he was taking his point, possibly because Mac might have anxiously looked at his watch at the mention of his partner, then to the silver elevator doors that would take them back to the ICU. He let his head rest against the wall behind him, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment. Jack was nothing like Oversight. Of that, Carlos was one hundred percent correct.

Carlos pushed on, heedless of Mac's anxiety and the fact he was killing what little appetite Mac had mustered with the smell of the greasy burger and fries in the bag he was holding. "I mean, he's family, _real_ family because he's earned that place. Not by blood, but by putting in the time. His loss, like his presence, would leave a hell of impact. Your dad had a brief appearance in your life, like a shooting star, but Jack, man, he's like an asteroid, the kind from Armageddon."

Mac opened his eyes at the odd shift in conversation, quirking a brow at Carlos's stumbling attempt at trying to impress his meaning. He lifted his head, forced himself to take a long gulp of the hot brew, his hand shaking slightly. "I'm not sure your metaphors are on par, dude, because I think you just compared Jack to something that could blow up my world."

"Kamila said it much better when I talked with her last night." Carlos gave a little groan. "I was trying to point out that Jack has left an impact. Your world wouldn't be the same without him so it's normal for you to be scared shitless."

Mac was touched by the fact his old friend had been concerned enough about his welfare to discuss the situation with his wife, even if he'd botched the illustration. He understood Carlos's intended message well enough, but also accepted that he'd also been just as affected, maybe more so, by his father's absence. It worried him which one actually shaped the man he had become. He winced with the renewed worry, a dull pain throbbing in his temple. He shifted the coffee to his hand holding the bag, brought the other to rub over his eyes but was instantly reminded his face was swollen and sore.

Mac gave a frustrated sigh, reminded that every damn thing hurt. It made him more emotional and forthright. "Sabrina eluded to the fact that parents didn't have to be around to make any such impact. She thinks Cage and I are chips off the old blocks without any real input needed from her or my father."

"Well that's bullshit." Carlos snorted, sounding more like himself as he veered from Kamila's script. He shifted his own bag before taking a place next to Mac, leaning his shoulder against the wall. "Last time I checked I had to actually be around to tuck my daughter in to bed, give her a hug, or to help her up when she falls. Those are the kinds of things that leave a mark on the heart. I'm not saying Jack tucked you into bed every night, or kissed your boo boos over in the Sandbox but I got the man's phone calls and texts every day while you were in Puerto Rico, I saw the way he went after Oversight… the brother is invested." Mac turned his head slightly, watching his old friend take a careful drink of the coffee. Carlos nodded. "Jack sure as hell hasn't been some bystander in the shadows. And if you ask me, you got a lot more of him in you, than you do your old man."

Mac's mouth twitched. "Given the chance I think Jack would still try and tuck me in sometimes, but you're right, I've never had to doubt if he'll show up." Nor did Mac have to consider the way Jack Dalton felt about him. Real love was at times reckless, ridiculous and selfless, but always steadfast. Words that Jack embodied on a daily basis. Mac looked at his watch again, feeling guiltier than ever for running off to Puerto Rico like he had. He pushed off from the wall, unwilling to stay away any longer. "Which is why I really need to get back up to his room."

Carlos smirked, bobbing his brows. "Which is why I got our dinner to go. Director Weber didn't say you couldn't bring your food back with you."

"You've really got her number." Mac started for the elevators, grateful for the late hour and the fact no one was waiting. He glanced at Carlos, who had matched his stride. "Are you sure you don't want to consider a real job with Phoenix?" Mac was only half joking. It would be nice to have someone else he was sure he and his team could trust.

"Even if I think Kamila would be okay with us leaving Puerto Rico, I'm not so sure Oversight is going to be okay with continuing my contract after he realizes it was me that destroyed all those notes back in the lab." Carlos's gaze was serious now as it met and held with Mac's. "Following _your_ orders has probably put me in the same boat as Jack."

Mac frowned as he stopped in front of wall that held a panel of buttons. He punched the up arrow, willing the elevator to open quickly. "None of this is Jack's fault."

"Not to be Devil's Advocate, but I'm not so sure your dad is going to buy that. I mean the beat down aside, your partner didn't pull any punches when he set him straight on a few things about his role as a father. I'm not sure James MacGyver is the kind of man that likes to have his flaws and shortcomings pointed out."

"Jack didn't know what he was saying." Mac punched the elevator button again, not meeting Carlos's gaze. Secretly he relished every word Jack had said, somehow wishing he'd been the one to say them to his father first. Jack _had_ been more of a dad to him in the last eight years than James had managed in a lifetime. He'd also been friend, brother, and protector all rolled into one. Mac wasn't sure if it was true that James didn't deserve him as a kid, but Mac was quite certain that he wasn't worthy of Jack. Especially after running off like he had.

"No drink or drug has the power to alter the words from a man's heart, hermano." Carlos made sure to hold Mac's gaze as finally the doors opened and a sole passenger disembarked.

"More of Kamila's musings?" Mac strode into the car, holding the door for his friend.

"No, that's all me. As a man of considerable pride myself, trust me when I say bruises will fade and noses can be set, but words, they can level a man, sort of like a Cat 4 hurricane can a seaside city. Jack Dalton meant every damn thing he said, and that will be a whole lot harder for your father to face every day than the pummeled face he sees in the mirror for a few weeks."

"Hard or not, he'll have to find away." Mac turned his gaze to the numbers, taking his time to punch the one for Jack's floor when the door closed. He felt his pulse pick up speed along with the cart, anxiety back with a vengeance as they were dispatched to the ICU ward. "I won't be coming back without Jack."

Mac hadn't quite made up his mind whether to truly return to Phoenix, but he'd never go back without Jack. That was indeed certain. If he'd learned nothing else, it was that he might not know where he belonged, but he sure as hell had been reminded of to whom he belonged. Riley, Bozer, and Jack were his place. His father had taken the chance to have a family away from Mac fifteen years before with his leaving. Mac would be damned if he let James MacGyver do the same thing again.

RcJ

" _DNA is the hereditary material found in a cell's nucleus It's a unique code made up of four bases-A, G, C, and T-which pair up: A with T, and C with G. Like letters form words and words form sentences the sequence of the bases builds and organism Humans have about three billion bases. What's incredible is that 99 percent of those bases are the same in all people. It's the 1 percent that makes us unique. How can DNA be different in every human who has ever lived, and yet still be 99 percent the same? It's the infiniteness of that 1 percent, the endless combinations and recombinations, that makes us who we_ are."

–Julie Clark, The Ones We Choose

Jack Dalton was fairly certain he felt way too shitty for a dead man. In all his Nana Beth's talk of the afterlife, she assured that pain was absent, sorrow forgotten. Of course, Jack wasn't convinced he was ever going to be headed into the light, although his grandmother believed for the both of them, but he didn't exactly get the impression he was in the toasty presence of Satan either.

"Jack? Can you hear me?"

Or maybe he had done just enough bad to warrant an audience with the devil herself…

"I know you're conscious, Dalton." Matilda Weber's voice was insistent. "The doctors have told us you should be coming around anytime and the monitors don't lie."

Jack let out the groan he'd been holding back. He could make out the distinct chemical smell of a med unit. He took quick stock of his body, feeling the familiar press of oxygen from the cannula beneath his nose, wires that ran to various places, and the prick of a large bore IV, although all sensations were a bit distant, buffered by a metaphoric wooly blanket of pain killers. The sudden warm press of fingers around his hand was enough of a prompt for him to open his eyes, or to at least give it a fair try.

"There you are."

"Where…" Jack attempted, blinking Matty's face into view. The rest of his thoughts were cut off by a ragged cough, leaving him breathless and his throat feeling like he'd swallowed hot sand. Thoughts of the desert swept through his cotton-wrapped mind like a hot wind across one of his old outposts, although Matty's presence didn't fit with any scenario he could conjure from Afghanistan. Jack frowned, the movement pulling at a bandage above his eye.

"We're still in Peru. A facility in Lima." The fact she answered gently, with a faint smile actually fed Jack's dread.

"Mac? Where's Mac?" Jack struggled through the mental fog, attempting to push himself to sitting as lingering images of his partner being physically pulled away from him pierced through the confusion like tiny bits of mica into unprotected skin. He wasn't' sure if the flashback was part of a dream but the fact the kid wasn't in the room, hadn't been the one to be sitting in the chair by his bed, was enough reason for Jack to fear the worst. The whole movement should have been even easier with the head of the bed already raised some but the only thing Jack accomplished was to reawaken all the aches and pains that had been dulled due to the strong painkillers.

"He's fine." Matty's fingers briefly squeezed Jack's hand, then let him go. Her gaze remained steadfast, although the smile had faded into a more familiar serious countenance. "I ordered Blondie to get some food and to grab a shower. Carlos went with him to make sure he didn't bluff on the burger or the soap." Matty turned to pick up a cup of water and a straw from Jack's bedside table, holding it over the rails to offer him a drink, seeming to read his thoughts as she continued. "I sent Riley and Bozer back to our basecamp after visiting hours were over. Everyone is accounted for, Dalton. You can stand down."

Jack took a few swallows, watching her for any signs she was feeding him a line. The woman was a good liar when she had to be, but Jack had never known her to pull any punches. He blinked, his vision blurring. Flashes of the recent events came back to him. If Mac had been hurt, she would have told him straight out. He took another drink, wincing when the coolness burned his raw throat. "You arrange for him to be out of the way so you could arrest me as soon as I was awake?"

Matty gave a roll of her eyes, returning the cup to the table. "You really think MacGyver could stop me if I was here to take you into custody?"

"I think…I _know_ he'd give it a helluva shot." Jack coughed. His voice sounded terrible to his own ears, like the last time he'd had bronchitis with a bad case of Strep.

"Good thing I'm not here to do any such thing." Matty pulled the chair closer to his bed taking a seat. A hint of smile flirted around her lips. "I'd hate to embarrass the both of you. He almost looks as bad as you do and should probably still be in a bed himself."

"But he's okay…" Jack watched Matty's gaze return to the heart monitor, which had now picked up its beeping.

"Okay enough to refuse to leave your bedside the last two days, even with Riley and Bozer insisting they would stay." Jack's face must have reflected the surprise he felt because she gave a nod, holding up a hand for him not to even ask. "Yes, I said two days. Forty six hours actually. You've been in and out a few times, but not completely coherent. They've had a problem keeping your fever down."

"So, I didn't commit assault and battery by beating the hell out of my superior?" Jack looked down at his hands, noting the cuts, nicks and bruises on his knuckles but an absence of cuffs around his wrists. He'd once landed in the brig for punching an officer. If he was remembering things right, he'd done more than take a swing at James MacGyver, but a high fever would explain it all away as night terrors. He let his head fall back on the pillow. "Because if not that was some dream…"

"It wasn't a dream, Dalton." Matty snapped, sounding much more like her old self. She narrowed her dark eyes and Jack clamped his mouth shut. "It could have been a freaking nightmare. It took three of our tactical guys and Carlos to pull you off him. Forget insubordination. You could have been looking at a murder charge. Again."

"Oversight alright?" Jack didn't meet Matty's watchful gaze. He coughed once, the pain driving away any thoughts of past misdeeds on his part. He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"He's not dead if that's what you're asking." Matty's tone was hard, the dressing down inevitable and probably well-deserved. If not for his most recent faux paus then for one thing or another she'd never found out about.

"That's good." Jack was relieved. He really hadn't meant to lose his shit on his boss. Not exactly. Especially not with his son watching. If he'd ever determined to take James out, he'd done it privately, possibly a good 600 yards away, only him and his sniper rifle as witnesses.

"It's not good, Jack. None of this is good. You broke his nose. He had to have stitches." Matty's voice had softened once more, possibly because Jack's face had blanched with the sudden wave of nausea that passed over him.

Jack was a man capable of great and terrible violence when it came to protecting those he loved, or following a damn order. He swallowed hard, having already wrestled that particular truth about himself. "He put his hands on Mac."

"Is that really your excuse? Because I read the report." Matty shook her head, reaching over to punch the button that would lift Jack's hospital bed higher so that he was able to sit up and couldn't escape her gaze by looking at the ceiling. "The last time I checked MacGyver is a grown man, a trained field agent. A …"

"Kid," Jack filled in quickly, bringing a hand to his ribs when they faintly protested the new position. He thanked the flow of drugs through the IV that he wasn't feeling more agony. When James had reacted to his son in fury, Jack had gone blind with rage. It was as if viewing all the injustices thrust upon the innocent culminated in that one careless gesture. Jack had been set on righting it. "In a lot of ways, he's still a damn kid, Matilda. A kid that has gone through hell because of Oversight and you know it."

"What I know is that James MacGyver is your boss _, and_ Mac's father." Matty's look was calm, her brows drawing together slightly as she waited for her point to sink into Jack's addled brain.

"So far, I'm not impressed with his recent performance at either of those jobs." Jack coughed, feeling worn and more than a little petulant and pouty. Jack blinked again, his eyes had a hard time focusing. His head felt fuzzy and he briefly wondered how bad off he must have been to render a two-day nap.

"Then you have the option of quitting Phoenix. That would solve one of your issues. The other isn't up for debate. It's undeniable and unchangeable. You can't fix it. Or rescue Mac from it."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it." Jack snarled, or at least attempted to. Damned if it wasn't hard to draw a breath. He was pretty sure intimidating and fierce was out of the question in his pitiful state.

Matty tilted her head, studying him and looking slightly sympathetic to his plight. Of course that might have been a trick of light, considering Jack couldn't see all that well through one of his eyes that felt swollen three times its normal size. "It also doesn't mean that your relationship with Mac has to change."

"Come on, Matty." Jack groaned, some from the pain he was starting to feel and partially because he couldn't misread the current expression Weber was giving him even with half his vision. It was very similar to the one Nana Beth often gave him when she could see through a thinly veiled cover and felt sorry for her boy, who was being an idiot. "I didn't beat the shit out of James MacGyver because I'm jealous."

"Your partner said you did it because of the KX7, that the serum heightened aggression and lowered inhibitions, not to mention the electrical storm it caused in your organs. On the record, he officially took all the blame for everything, including the fact that the medics had to shock you three times to get your heart out of tachycardia ventricular fibrillation. They nearly lost you on the chopper ride here."

"Damn." Jack squeezed his eyes closed, lifting a hand to his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, imagining the spiel Mac fed Matty, the unfounded guilt his young partner had undoubtedly heaped on himself. "Surely by now you get that the kid's long-winded spiels of information are just armor right? Facts are the equivalent of a flak jacket. He uses his big brain to protect himself when he's hurt or scared. I injected myself with that damn drug. Mac didn't have anything to do with it."

"Except you did it to save him."

"Yes." Jack would do it again, even if his heart had stopped. He dropped his hand to the mattress, turning his head to look at Matty. Her gaze had gone soft again, leaving him to wonder just how bad off he'd been but also reminding him that there had been a time when they'd always been on the same side of things, that they'd been close and he easily counted her among kin. He felt an additional twinge of anger at James MacGyver for placing them in opposition, for drawing a line in the sand that Jack hadn't even realized was there until a few months before. He balled his IV free hand into a fist. "I didn't think about it. I just did it. That's what family does. I'd throw myself on a grenade for that kid."

"Or preferably pull the pin and stuff one in James's pocket?" Matty's mouth curved slightly, showing that she wasn't completely Oversight's girl.

Jack started to open his mouth, but then closed it, unsure of how to answer. Seeing James grab Mac, shake him…

"You put our whole family at risk by attacking James the way that you did," Matty added. "That's the old bull in the China shop Dalton rearing its idiotic head. I thought you had changed since our days at The Farm…for the better."

"Family is everything to me. That's the one thing that never changes. You know that." Jack had gotten wiser, but he had also grown less patient. His grandmother would probably point out the two should not exist together, but Jack figured wisdom could live right alongside intolerance for foolishness just fine.

"I do," Matty sighed. "That's why I'm going to say this and you're going to listen. If you want to keep us all together, then Mac is going to have to accept Oversight. I'm not saying he has to forgive him for all that he's done…" Matty held up a hand when Jack opened his mouth to object. "Or even that he should. But I will say, that in the long run an unwillingness to do so will only hurt Mac. Surely you have to see that."

Jack fought to not roll his eyes. "Is this where you give me the spiel about forgiveness, because if so, let me stop you. I have a Nana who knows her scripture better than most. She's made sure I have the important parts memorized."

"Then maybe you need to take Blondie back home to Texas for a refresher course with Miss Beth. He's going to have an even harder time letting this beef with his dad go now that he holds him partially responsible for what happened to you."

"I'm fine." Jack might have smugly delighted in the prospect that Mac would choose him every damn time over his father. A little voice whispered that the kid shouldn't have to make such a choice, but Jack let the hum of a headache drown out the convicting words.

"You nearly died, Jack." Matty waved a hand at the machines. "If you wanted to drive Mac farther away, then you succeeded by nearly getting yourself killed."

"Yeah, well, I can't say that some of this isn't James's fault, darlin'." Jack lifted a hand to gesture to himself. He didn't need a mirror to know how bad he probably looked. The flashes of sympathy Matty kept shooting him whenever she wasn't purposively holding her game face in place was reflection enough of his damn pitiful state. "In fact, I wouldn't put it past him to have used me as bait, to have had an inkling that his bastard partner Jonah was coming for me."

"Ridiculous paranoia aside, I'm not discounting that James has a lot to answer for. I know the man, after all. Better than you. Better than Mac. He can be a pompous ass, but he also has his good qualities. Really good ones, Jack. I believe he loves his son, and if you would give him a chance you might see that he's a lot like Mac, or rather Mac is a lot like him. I would have never tried to help Mac find him if I didn't truly think he had our boy's best interests at heart."

"Yeah, well, a scorpion doesn't change its spots Mattilda." Jack shifted on the bed, feeling sore and achy. Sulky and miserable, he ignored the flash of warmth that Matty's use of 'our boy' brought. He wished Matty would just go and get Mac so he could set his kid straight, call Riley to let her know he wasn't running out again, and then sleep for a damn week.

"I think you mean leopard, Dalton." Matty frowned, her gaze moving to the monitors once more before going back to Jack.

"I stand by the spirit of my words, woman." Jack hissed as he tried to shove himself higher in the bed. He wrapped an arm around his middle, gritting his teeth for a moment to let the wave of pain pass. "You ever heard the story of the frog and the scorpion?"

"Is it found in scripture? Because I didn't have a Nana Beth who made me memorize verses when I stepped out of line." Matty arched a brow. "Or is this a different Texas tall-tale?"

Jack ignored her teasing. "There was once a frog and a scorpion on the side of a lake. The wily, conniving scorpion begged that good-natured little frog to get him to the other side, but the smart frog said no, convinced that the sneaky scorpion would sting him if he let him ride across on his back." Jack had to pause to take a breath, feeling like he'd run a marathon or been a two-packs a dayer most his life, even though he'd never touched a cigarette. When Matty merely rolled her eyes, he pushed on.

"But that old scorpion kept promising the frog, which really wasn't much more out of his tadpole stage, that he wouldn't hurt him, swore not to cause him any harm, until the trusting frog gave in out of the kindness of his big old heart." Jack coughed, swallowing hard, his body not ready yet for so many words at a time.

"Half way across that old scorpion stung the frog. The frog asked him why, seeing as how now they were both going to die. The scorpion replied that it was simple really. He didn't know how to be anything other than a scorpion."

Matty rubbed her fingers at her temples and for the first time Jack realized how tired _she_ looked. "What exactly am I supposed to take away from that? Except that you still have a fever and are obviously delirious."

Jack ignored the jab. He narrowed his gaze, not playing anymore. "My job is to protect Mac from attacks from the enemy that he might miss while he's all busy being 'Mac'. How am I to know if the kid gives his daddy a chance, he won't just hurt him again? That James won't show himself to be the same piss-poor parent he's been the last fifteen years."

"You don't." Matty actually agreed with him.

"Exactly." Jack rested back against the mattress, frowning, unsure of where his boss was going to go next because she damn sure never let him win an argument even when they were more than co-workers.

Matty placed a hand on Jack's leg, her look no non-sense but also kind. "But how do you know that he won't ride it out with Mac to the other side and that they'll both end up in a much better place than where they're at now? Isn't that why you had Mac pursue finding him in the first place, why you helped him in his pursuit for over a year, even when I warned you that it was a complicated matter."

Jack resisted the urge to look away, to just close his eyes. He'd wanted to believe Oversight had a heart for Mac's sake, even if it meant Jack might have to take a back seat to the man. It was hard enough to wade his way through his own guilt and insecurities to do what was best for the kid, but with James acting a fool and putting the boy in jeopardy, Jack had to question every inclination on both their parts. "I don't know."

"Exactly. Jack Dalton doesn't know every damn thing." Matty offered another rare smile. "Besides, _that_ little frog didn't' have an old leathery crock waiting in the wings to rescue him. Mac does."

Before Jack had the chance to insist he'd rather be a wolf than a reptile, Mac appeared in the doorway, ghost-like. He looked from Matty to Jack, his face going from worried, to relieved, to frustrated within seconds as Jack catalogued the bruises, the ones from the beating he took from Walsh as well as the hints of ones that might not show physically, but somehow create an aura of weariness about the kid that maybe only Jack could detect. In the background, still hovering at the open door Jack could make out Carlos as well, doing his job of Mac's temporary Overwatch-just like he'd promised.

"Thank God you're awake." Mac faltered only a second, his gaze leaving Jack for a moment to light on Matty, blue lightning flashing. "You were supposed to call me as soon as he woke up."

"I just woke up, kid." Jack didn't hesitate, figuring he probably owed Matty seeing as how he wasn't being taken into custody. He rubbed a hand over his eyes when his vision started to blur again. "Matty was about to come get you."

"You sound horrible." The worried look was back on Mac's face. He tossed a paper bag on the rolling cart near Jack, placing a cup alongside it as well. "Did you call his doctor?"

"Did you miss the part where he just woke up, Blondie?" Matty glanced at her phone as it buzzed. Frowning, before she put it away again. "Oversight needs to see me." She glanced to the door and Jack felt bad for Carlos. "He also wants to talk to you, Agent 'I followed my buddies directive instead of my superior'." Matty returned her gaze to Mac. "I actually know who my boss is, but I'll take your advisement under consideration and be sure to let the nurses know that the patient is awake."

Mac didn't look one iota chagrined and Jack made a note to ask his partner what Carlos had done. He possibly owed the man more than a steak dinner and all the beer he could drink. The kid folded his arms over his chest, putting on his stubborn 'just try me' face. "Would you also remind Oversight that he doesn't have any jurisdiction here."

Jack watched their director struggle with whatever instant salty reply came to her mind. He imagined a bevy of different snarky responses and decided he owed Matty another one when she merely ignored Mac's order to play go between for him and his estranged father and instead turned her dark eyes to him once more. The tight lines around her eyes softened as she patted his leg.

"Remember, Dalton, what doesn't kill us, makes us stronger."

Jack understood she was more than likely talking about Mac dealing with his dad, but Jack knew Mac was already one of the strongest men he'd ever met. He didn't think the kid needed anymore refining in the fire. He frowned at his old friend, feeling the bandage pulling once more. A headache started to slowly wind its way through the haze of painkillers. "Unless it's a damn scorpion. Scorpions will kill you, Matilda."

"What?" Mac broke in, his accusing gaze going to their director before focusing worried baby blues back on Jack.

"I think your partner's still delirious from a fever, Blondie. Maybe he needs a cool sponge bath from that very muscular nurse with the hairy mole in her chin." Matty smirked at Jack, all niceness fleeing in wake of her typical deviousness. Payback was a bitch. "I'll be sure to relay that suggestion with all the others I've been charged."

Jack sputtered for a reply but then Mac's cool palm pressed against his forehead and had him turning to meet this best friend's concerned frown. "You are still really hot."

"That's what all the ladies say, bud." Jack swallowed a cough. He allowed the breach of his personal space, slightly amused by the rare mother-hen move from the kid. It was a sobering reminder that Mac's defenses had taken a hell of a hit over the last few days. When he didn't even smile, Jack's worry doubled.

"It was 104.2 when you were first admitted." Mac removed his touch, but let his hand rest on the bed, fingers barely touching Jack. His glance glided briefly to the monitors. Jack silently cursed the damn machine when his growing worry showed in a slight increased cadence. Furrows scored Mac's brow. "It's been hovering stubbornly at the 103 mark. Even after your oxygen levels came up."

"That was some pretty nasty stuff Walsh doused me with during our fun time together." Jack coughed, regrettably for the pain it invoked in his chest and the mirrored intensity of hurt that flashed over Mac's face. And not for the first time Jack was ready to do everything possible to get rid of the look on the kid's face. "Aren't fevers just a good sign that a guy's body is doing its job defending the front lines."

"Sometimes," Mac admitted slowly, fingers twitching next to Jack. "The doctors haven't seemed too concerned considering all your other issues."

"I always was an enigma wrapped in a mystery. Just ask any of my high school girlfriends." Jack's attempt at humor failed once more, and it provoked him to reach up and tug at the end of the t-shirt Mac was wearing. His ribs protested at the movement. "Hey, I'm good, bud. Really."

"No thanks to me." The words were bitter, loathing and so unlike Mac it made Jack cringe.

"I'd say with every thanks to you." Jack cleared his throat. He pulled on his best friend's shirt again, until Mac's gaze finally met his. "You were the one who tweaked that drug."

"That _drug_ could have killed you." Mac leaned over the bed, resting his weight on his hands. He favored Jack with a gutted look. "We're damn lucky it didn't. I hadn't worked out all the specific problems. If the paramedics hadn't been able to shock your heart into a normal rhythm…"

"But they did." Jack let go of Mac, brought his hand to rest over his chest where he could feel a distant throbbing in time to his heartbeat. "My ticker's fine. Right?"

"All the tests seem to show that there was no permanent damage." Mac finally took a seat on the edge of the bed, looking as if he needed desperately to find one of his own and curl up to join Jack for that week long sleep. Mac's shoulders were slumped wearily, blue, almost black shadows were under his eyes, speaking of sleepless nights. He wrapped his long fingers around the edge of the blanket, twisting the fabric in a restless gesture. "If nothing else, my father's desire to get all the information on KX7's first living test subject had you undergoing every scan imaginable." The ghost of a smile twitched around Mac's mouth. "It appears you have the heart of a thirty year old."

"Can't say that surprises me because I also have the awesome body of a _twenty-nine year old_. I also can't say that I'm not glad I slept through all that poking and prodding." Jack tried one last time to inject some humor. He blinked, his eyes burning with tiredness. "Maybe Oversight could get all those results to Nurse Sally and that woman wouldn't be so hell bent on preaching the benefits of a clean diet and stress relieving yoga regimen to me every time we end up in her medical ward."

"Oversight doesn't have access to any of your results." Mac's blue gaze flashed once more like it had when he believed Matty hadn't done as she promised, his fingers curling into a fist, twisting the blanket. It reminded Jack that he had seen the kid show more anger in the last two months than he had since knowing him. "I'm your power of attorney. I invoked my status of your next of kin and kept him from the visitor's list as well as denying any information he wanted."

"I appreciate the stronghold move, bud, but maybe you should let him have the results. If that drug…"

"That serum is dangerous," Mac growled, running a hand through his hair. He blew out a long breath in frustration "Fatigue and exhaustion are the body's ways of preventing a catastrophic event. Just because muscles have the energy reserve and ability to keep going doesn't mean that they should."

"Easy, Tiger." Jack reached out and placed his hand over Mac's, stilling the fingers that were now tightly gripped around the blanket as if it might very well be Oversight's throat. Jack shifted again, straightening a little more, gritting his teeth against the growing discomfort it brought with it. "I wasn't suggesting that you go along with any research to manufacture the super soldier serum, only that you get your old man off your case. Toss a dog a bone, you know."

Jack felt his partner marginally relax his fist. His blue eyes reflected anything but a submission though. "I'm tired of giving way to him, Jack. I'm not standing down about this. He's made enough decisions had far too much control." The 'over me' remained unsaid but Jack could still hear it loud and clearly.

"Are we still talking about the drug, kiddo?" Jack asked, though he could tell his voice was starting to wear thin. He blinked, his vision wavering. It was getting harder to keep track of their conversation.

"He's had a hand in everything. I can't begin to separate what's really mine, and what he's manipulated." Mac rubbed a hand over his eyes, flinching when his fingers came in contact with the nasty cut across his right cheek. The kid looked pale under all the bruises. In that moment the kid looked fragile, like a string wound too tight.

"I can tell you a few things that are yours. Solely of your own merit. Namely me. Our friendship. But there's also Riley, and Bozer, who's been yours since before James left." Jack coughed again, swallowing a groan. He rubbed his free hand over his face, wiping sweat away in that process. Jack desperately wanted to point out hundreds of other things that belonged to the kid, that made him who he was, but stuck with the simple, what he hoped was the most symbolic few.

"How do I know he didn't put Bozer up to being my friend all those years ago, just like he and Jonah picked you from a list of potential candidates for my Overwatch?"

It was silly conjecture, but Jack understood Mac's worry was all too real, felt the kid start to slip slowly through his hands like sand. "Well, for one, I don't see James MacGyver involving himself in the affairs of third graders, but two, if he had been so inclined to bribe a kid with a pudding cup, I think he might have picked someone with a better academic record and loftier goals than Bozer." Jack managed a half grin. "Maybe someone who wouldn't have gone along so readily with you sneaking into science labs after hours or blowing up the middle school football field."

"I don't know," Mac shrugged, staring off into the distance for a moment before his gaze met Jack's again, the first hints of a smile twitching around his mouth. "He did pick you."

"From what I hear tell, that was only because Matty made him." Jack smirked, relaxing back into the pillows with a small groan. Up until now he had been thankful that Matty had seemed to keep the nurses and doctors at bay in lieu of some of her good old fashioned ball busting, but now that he'd laid eyes on Mac he was ready for some more painkillers. Jack hated the worried scowl his show of discomfort brought to his partner's face once more but he could feel his body slowly giving in to the weakness brought on by being out of it for two days straight. His eyes met Mac's. "Seriously, Matty is in our corner, kid. I know after everything that has been going on since your Dad showing up it's been hard to figure out who you can trust, especially so soon on the hills of Nikki and Thornton, but you trust me." Jack coughed, his fingers squeezing Mac's hand. "And I trust Matty."

Mac still seemed unsure. He looked a lot like a cornered animal and Jack couldn't help to think about Damascus, back when he'd first rescued the horse, the way his eyes would roil and he'd paw the ground and snort whenever Jack would go to touch him. The kid looked ready to bolt but he stilled and gathered himself as Jack's hand remained steady.

"I guess that's reason enough for me to forgive her." Mac ran a hand through his hair and not for the first time Jack wondered if his partner should really be up and out of bed.

Jack moved his hand from Mac's letting it come to rest over his throbbing ribs. "I also hear tell it's in a man's best interest to let go of most grudges." Jack bobbed his brows, ignoring the pinch he felt when his skin pulled at the gash above his eye.

"Nana Beth tell you that?" Mac rolled his eyes, giving Jack another close once over.

Jack nodded, head resting heavier against his pillow. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Matty his grandmother had made him memorize scripture. It wasn't for punishment like Matty assumed, but done so in hopes that some of the wise words might sink in. Mac wasn't the only one who had issues with a parent. "She is a smart woman, that nana of ours."

"Maybe I should ask her about what to do with my dad. Fourth of July is coming up. I mean that is if…" Mac looked uncertain, his fingers worrying a loose thread of the blanket and it sparked Jack's anger and frustration with James, that the man's actions had set the kid back ten steps in the whole trusting department. It gave Jack the needed adrenaline boost to ignore his body's demands for sleep a little longer. He once more reached out and covered Mac's hand to still the restless movement. "That is if we're still going…"

"Of course we're going, brother. We haven't missed going home to a Dalton Fourth of July cookout in the past seven years."

"But things have changed…"

"Nothing's changed," Jack interrupted fiercely. "My home is your home."

Mac looked up at him. He had to force a smile, one that pulled at his sore mouth but was made worth it when his partner's face flooded with relief. "Besides I'd be mighty interested in hearing what advice she has to dole out, seeing as how you rarely listen to what I have to say."

Jack looked down, realizing his hand was still covering Mac's, that he'd wrapped it tightly over the kid's fingers this time. He could make out the blue ridges of veins through his pale skin as the effort to hold onto the kid was made visible. He blamed the uncharacteristic desperation on the drugs. Jack made a conscious decision to let go, finding it harder than it should have been to bring his hand back to his chest.

Mac's deep frown matched his own. "Jack? You okay?"

Jack licked his chapped lips, took a shallow breath that hurt his ribs. The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the pain of doing what he did next. "I'm not nearly as plugged in to the Big Guy as Nana Beth is, but I can tell you that your daddy doesn't have the kind of control he thinks he does. You have the ultimate say in whether you forgive him or not, whether you allow him space back in your life, a place in your heart." Jack's voice threatened to give out and he had to clear his throat. "That's all you, Angus. It means you're in charge."

"But I can't change the fact he's my father, that I'm his son. Science isn't so flexible. There's nowhere I can run that will alter that truth. Not Puerto Rico, not Timbuktu. I share his genetic makeup. It's undeniable and inescapable." Mac breathed, his eyes boring into Jack's as if he was at once daring him to dispute the facts and yet begging him to offer tangible proof to dispute the irrefutable.

"It's true we don't have one damn say in whom we're born to, brother. Or even much control over what they do to us when we're young and at their mercy. I understand biology better than you think I do, Mac." He also understood the luck of the draw, how one boy like Bozer for instance landed in a loving family with a mother and father, only to have another lose their mom at five, only to be abandoned by a dad who couldn't or wouldn't see past his own pain.

When Mac stayed silent, Jack held the kid firmly in his gaze, as fiercely and protectively as he might have physically offered shelter in his arms if Mac had still been that ten-year-old boy that had been abandoned in the world and left alone. Instead Jack faced the strong-willed, fiercely independent twenty-five year old. They were past the point where Jack could heal certain wounds by being the kind of father Mac was denied. They were past the time where a simple hug and reassuring words could make all evils of the world go away but he'd be damned if he still couldn't be the sort of parent the kid was in desperate need of now.

"Nobody gets to pick their blood kin, bud. But family… _family_ we get to choose for ourselves."

The End…for now.

A/N: This of course is followed by the story Warriors. I have a niggling of an idea that maybe it will continue in an epilogue of a story, just a bit at the Ranch where Mac makes up his mind about Oversight and the fourth of July fireworks will be as fiery as they come if people are interested in seeing how Mac decides or doesn't decide to forgive Oversight in this slightly AU version now.

Thanks again to all of those who continued to read, reviewed, who sent private messages of encouragement, and to Mary who worked tirelessly to make this better. Also, I would be remiss in mentioning the wonderful novel I have quoted throughout. It is The Ones We Choose, by Julie Clark, and it is quite fabulous.


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